Hermione and the Pageant
by ardennia
Summary: When Hermione Granger, an Auror working for the Ministry of Magic, is assigned to be an undercover agent at a beauty pageant, danger ensues... action, mystery, adventure and romance along the way as she discovers herself... and Draco Malfoy. HGDM, rated R
1. Chapter 1

Hermione and the E.W.B.P (European Witchcraft Beauty Pageant)  
  
*** Having just discontinued my Lily/James fanfiction, And So It Begins, I have (rather foolishly I know, but I can't resist!) decided to begin a new one, a HG/DM fic. It's extremely AU and set after Hermione leaves Hogwarts; she now works for the Ministry Of Magic in the Department of International Magical Co-operation. The rest is pretty much explained. Enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer: Almost all of the characters belong to J.K.Rowling, and the plot is based on the film Miss Congeniality, though you don't have to have seen the film to understand this fiction.  
  
This story is rated R, though to be honest it's quite tame. I know myself that most people pay little attention to the rating (c'mon! Admit it, the thirteen year olds out there! I bet most of you have read an R fic!) though I do warn you that towards the end, in later chapters, it may be a little risqué. I doubt you will find much to offend at all. ***  
  
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Chapter 1  
  
Hermione Granger bustled into her office, slamming the door shut behind her, and flopped into a chair dejectedly. How could this have happened? It was all going so well. But she just had to do it- mess things up! She had let down her teammates, she had let down her boss and most importantly she had let down herself.  
  
Working in the Ministry of Magic was never going to be easy, and she had known that when she had taken it on. Having left Hogwarts with the best NEWT results the school had ever seen, she had been able to take her pick of any job she wanted, and working for her country was top of the list. She had trained extremely hard and after seven years of sheer determination and excruciatingly difficult work she had finally managed to pass the exam and become an Auror working for the Department of International Magical Co- Operation. That was two years ago and now, aged twenty-seven, she was still struggling to see eye to eye with her boss.  
  
Percy Weasley was head of the department, and known to be rather hard to please. All the people he kept on his team were the best, no question about it, and Hermione had been extremely pleased when she was accepted to be part of it. But recently the assignments he had been setting for her were giving her trouble, and more often than not nowadays she found herself being lectured.  
  
"No Granger! Patience is the key," Weasley had shouted at her exasperatedly a few evenings before. "You can't be so outspoken with your opinions, there are many different foreign laws you have to respect. Carry on like this Granger, and you could end up seriously offending one of the ministers abroad!" Hermione rolled her eyes, picturing her boss's hard, stern face, but she knew that he was right. Hermione was good at her job, but she had always been too blunt and "unconstrained" with her opinions.  
  
Today had been one of the hardest days in her career, the International European Conference, where all the different ministers from Europe came together and discussed important issues. She had been delighted and flattered when Weasley had chosen her and four other Aurors to accompany him (although he did sternly warn her beforehand to not offend anyone). However, she had let him down.  
  
The memory was all too vivid in her head: how she had called the Bulgarian Minister "outdated and old fashioned", how she had accused the German Minister of being "overly pessimistic" and how, worst of all, she had said the French Minister's idea about orange and blue broomsticks was "tacky, gaudy and something only a seventy year old hippy would buy". It was only after she had said it, and noticed that the French Minister was wearing orange and blue robes, did she realise how tactless her remark had been.  
  
The French Minister had left in a rage, declaring that Weasley should "chooze `is companions more carefully in ze future". The Bulgarian Minister had sworn a lot in his language, and then threw a vase at Hermione. The German Minister had actually burst into tears and demanded Granger was physically removed (thankfully, a few other ministers persuaded him otherwise). Her boss had remained tight lipped until the conference was over, and then he had exploded.  
  
"Granger!" He shouted, his face going as red as his hair. "I am furious! Not only have you risked the Union being broken down but you have also seriously offended several ministers who decide whether or not we're even allowed to have our jobs! I hope you realise how truly appalled I am. Go home; you won't be needed for the rest of the day. I expect a written apology to all the ministers you spoke to, as well as a report on what mistakes you made, on my desk- tomorrow morning."  
  
"But sir," she had protested. "I'm sorry if I went too far, but there's no way I can have all that finished by tomorrow morning!"  
  
"No buts, Granger," Weasley had said, in a voice of icy calm. "I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
So here she was now, in her ramshackle office with a quill in her hand and a blank parchment in front of her, preparing to write a letter of apology to the Bulgarian, French and German Ministers.  
  
"I am sorry for having an opinion," she wrote, reading it out loud, then paused. No, that sounded as if she condoned her behaviour. Well- she did.  
  
Why should she be sorry? After all, all she did was speak her opinion. "I thought this was supposed to be a free country," she said aloud angrily, screwing up the piece of paper and throwing it at the wall.  
  
"Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness you know," came a drawling voice, and in stepped her co-Auror Draco Malfoy. Hermione had hated him from the start, and found him to be very undedicated, so to speak.  
  
"Malfoy," she said coldly, standing up and surveying him with ill-disguised dislike. "Come to gloat have you? We all know you're Weasley's pet, though ten years ago you couldn't stand him."  
  
"It's called getting in with the times, Granger," he answered, smiling widely, though his eyes remained as unaffected as ever. The superiority in his manner and stance was obvious; the way he stood with an air of grace and arrogance that far surpassed his actual talent, and the way he seemed to lord over everyone. Hermione eyed him up and down, from his white- blonde, slicked back hair to the soles of his black expensive designer shoes. He had been in her year at Hogwarts, her bitter enemy and rival. A shiver of fury went through her whenever she had to work on a case with him, though she had to admit sometimes she enjoyed the arguments- it felt good to let rip.  
  
"I've just come to warn you that Weasley's coming down here with Grant, and they look pissed. I think you might be in for the biggest reprimand the Ministry Of Magic has ever seen." His grin became wider. "And just so you know, we're beginning a new case tomorrow. Looks like someone might be kicked off the team." Hermione felt the bottom of her stomach drop, but she tried not to show it.  
  
"Well now I know, Malfoy," she snapped. "So you can fuck off!"  
  
"My pleasure," he answered composedly. He turned for the doorway, his hand on the doorknob. "By the way, you look like shit."  
  
He slammed the door, leaving Hermione to her infuriated, troubled thoughts. Weasley was coming- with Grant? Karnopheus Grant was the Minister for Magic and even Weasley's superior. It seemed Malfoy was right, and she really was in trouble.  
  
How she hated Malfoy! Pacing over to the mirror on the wall, she checked her appearance. It was true she wasn't looking her best, but then again, when did she ever? Her long, frizzy, dark brown hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, and anxious eyes peered out from behind thick-rimmed jam jar glasses. Her skin was just as spotty as usual, but now a deadly white with worry; beads of perspiration dotted her slightly wrinkled forehead. Hermione had never really bothered about her appearance before, but she'd never been this bedraggled at school- in fact, she used to be quite caring of her looks, though she'd never been a great beauty. Nowadays she worked with men fourteen hours a day seven days a week, and they treat her like a man too- so wasn't it natural she started behaving like one?  
  
"Granger," came a sharp voice behind her, and Hermione stopped her wonderings and realised Weasley had entered the room with Grant close behind him. Percy Weasley was only four years older than Hermione but he seemed much older: the way he carried himself and the way he spoke was the behaviour of a much older man. Karnopheus Grant was a black, balding man in his late sixties with iron-grey hair that contrasted sharply with his dark skin. Hermione felt dread in her stomach- though Karnopheus was in general a fair man and a good Minister for Magic, he was also terribly strict with rules and punishments.  
  
"Good evening, sir," Hermione said quietly. "And to you, sir." She decided it would be best to seem apologetic- and in truth, she did rather regret voicing her opinions so rashly.  
  
"Mr Weasley informs me you insulted and degraded several Ministers at the International European Conference today," Grant said abruptly, his dark eyes piercing Hermione so she felt uncomfortable and gazed at the floor. "You spoke to them with a huge amount of disrespect and induced the German Minister to tears." Grant paused, and his mouth furiously twitching; for a second Hermione thought he was about to smile, but then the moment passed and his face became grave again. "I was very shocked to hear these allegations. Of course you will be aloud to defend yourself. Do you deny you behaved like this?"  
  
Hermione hesitated. "I do believe I spoke too brashly for my status sir," she said shakily, "but I also know that I have the right to free speech, even if I should have spoken with a little more, er, tact. I apologise thoroughly for any offence I may have caused with my opinions, and before you came to speak to me, I was indeed in the process of writing up letters of regret."  
  
"Really? From what I saw, Granger, you were merely admiring your appearance," Weasley barked, causing Hermione to jump about three feet in the air.  
  
"Sit down please, both of you," Grant said, and Hermione and Weasley both sat upon the rickety chairs in Hermione's office. Grant himself took a seat in the best armchair in the corner (Hermione was thankful she'd remembered to clean the tea stains off it that morning). "Weasley and I have discussed this and whether we think you should be suspended-" Hermione opened her mouth to speak- "BUT we have decided otherwise, especially since one of your co-workers put in a good word for you. Since an important case arrived on my desk this morning, I think it may be better if you channel your efforts into helping with the next assignment. This assignment, I warn you, is the most important and dangerous case we have had for years, and we want you to be part of it. In fact, Granger, you are going to have to prove yourself."  
  
Hermione listened raptly, all her attention now solely on the Minister for Magic.  
  
"You may or may not be aware of a beauty pageant beginning in three days," Grant continued seriously. "It is called the European Witchcraft Beauty Pageant, or E.W.B.P, and is extremely famous- so famous in fact, it has been target of some protestors. We received an anonymous letter this morning, brimming with death threats, from someone who has it in for the witches that take part in the pageant. It seems there is a plot- a plot to murder.  
  
"There is a psycho out there that is going to try and kill the women in the E.W.B.P, and to stop that happening, we need an undercover Auror that will maintain the safety of all the witches and people involved in the pageant. That means the Auror will have to fit in, and become one of the contestants. That Auror will be guaranteed a place in the top five, so they can keep a watchful eye on all the other witches and, if possible, try and find out who the psycho is, and alert us to him. We don't want death on our hands, Granger."  
  
"Sounds like a good idea to me," Hermione said eagerly, brimming with ideas. "So there's going to be an undercover Auror planted in the pageant, dressed up as a contestant so nobody knows her real identity, and she will have to keep an eye on things and alert us lot to the killer. But who do you have in mind?"  
  
"You," Weasley said, a smile on his lips.  
  
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There you go, my first chapter! I hope it was okay- I tried to explain everything that was going on, but here's the run through of what happened in case anyone missed anything.  
  
(1) Hermione works in the Department of International Magical Co-Operation at the Ministry of Magic. Her boss is Percy Weasley, who is Head of the department, and the Minister for Magic is Karnopheus Grant. She works on a team of Aurors, one of which is Draco Malfoy. (2) At the International European Conference, Hermione upset some of the other Ministers with her outspoken attitude. (3) To make up for causing offence, she's going to have to go undercover at the European Witchcraft Beauty Pageant, and try and protect all the other witches from a crazed killer who wants to murder the witches. More will be revealed later on...  
  
Thanks very much for reading, I appreciate it! As I said, it's only R because of content coming in later chapters... I hope it was easy enough to understand, I don't know how well I clarify facts. Please review, and for those who want more DM/HG, it's coming soon, I promise! And Hermione won't stay ugly forever... 


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione And The E.W.B.P (European Witchcraft Beauty Pageant)  
  
*** Summary: When Hermione Granger, a twenty-seven year old Auror working for the Ministry Of Magic, has to go undercover at a beauty pageant, who knows what chaos will follow? Especially when she has to work with her worst enemy...  
  
Disclaimer: Most of the characters are copyright of J K Rowling, and as the plot is based on the film Miss Congeniality, I don't own that either. Just a little note to all the readers- you DO NOT have to have seen this film to understand the story. And yes, it will be similar in some places to the film, but most of it is entirely original.  
  
Another note: You may notice that things have been omitted, like a character will be in this story (e.g. Remus Lupin) and Hermione will have never met him before. That's just the way it goes- it's AU.  
  
Thank you to everyone who reviewed my story, I really appreciated it. Please keep it up and don't hesitate to tell me what you think is right or wrong about it!  
  
Rubyqueen17~ thanks, 4*s isn't bad at all! Please keep on reviewing- I hope it stays to your liking.  
  
Smokeline~ Thanks, enjoy the chapter and please tell me what you think.  
  
Natyslacks~ Hi Nat! Well I must admit you did twist my arm a little bit, but I doubt I needed much persuasion to begin a Hermione/Draco fic! Thank you and keep reviewing.  
  
Aquaprincess1~ Ha, lol I don't know if Hermione will sing at all... doubt it... but it's a funky idea! Thank you and you never know who may have their eyes on our lil Hermione... ;)  
  
Chocoliciouz~ I haven't killed "And So It Begins"... lol; it's just taking a break! Though it did nearly "die" when my idea well started drying up. Please keep reading and thanks!  
  
Dark Star~ Thanks! Here's my update, so how is it? Hope to hear from you pal! :)  
  
Befuzzled~ Thanks, keep reading.  
  
So there it is, and here's Chapter 2! I know it's quite soon but I always get excited when I get reviews. ***  
  
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Chapter 2  
  
Hermione's jaw dropped. "What? Sorry sir, I think I must have mistaken your meaning... I just thought you said that I, ME, would be the undercover agent planted in the pageant?"  
  
"You heard right, Granger," Percy Weasley said brusquely. "We need a female agent, and considering that there isn't much choice around here, you're our only hope."  
  
"But SIR! Mr Grant, Minister, I beg you. How could you choose ME to do something like this? To be in a beauty pageant you have to be all... well... lipgloss, fake tan; all that shit. Pardon my French sir," she said hastily, watching Grant swell slightly; "but there is absolutely no way I can accept this job. I'd be willing to work on the case, but I can't go undercover."  
  
"Now you listen to me," Grant boomed, his familiar authorative tone ringing clear. "Do you want to keep your place at this job?"  
  
"Yes, but-"  
  
"And do you want to make up for the mistakes you caused today?"  
  
"Ye-es but how-?"  
  
"Then there's nothing more to be said," Grant said finally. "If you wish to stay here and make up for what you've done then you have to do exactly what we say. And if we say you're going undercover, you're going undercover. I understand you would have to fit in-" His eyes lingered on Hermione's dirty fingernails; "and so we're going to have to organise some sort of 'makeover'. We will make sure you go as unnoticed as possible.  
  
"You will be Miss Finland; we managed to wangle you the place subtly after finding out the witch who was supposed to be representing that country, has been in a number of, ahem, risqué films. Naturally, as soon as the authorities found out she was a porn star, she was disqualified and another entry had to be chosen."  
  
"So if I did this, I'd be Miss Finland? But that's-"  
  
"We'll sort out other details later on. You're going to be Miss Finland and you'll pretend you were born there to all the other witches. We've arranged for you a meeting with the woman who runs the Pageant. You can sort out something between you, so that a minimal amount of people know your true identity."  
  
"Sir," Hermione said quietly. "I don't think I can do it. I just don't think I'm cut out for that kind of work."  
  
"Granger, if you want to stay in this job you will do it," Weasley snapped. "I'll give you an hour to decide whether you accept it or not- and if you decide not to, you can hand in your Auror badge first thing tomorrow morning, because you're sacked."  
  
"In an hour I want you in my office with your decision," Grant stated.  
  
The interview was over. Grant and Weasley got to their feet, both of them with grave expressions on their faces, and exited the room, leaving Hermione to her numb disbelief.  
  
Her? In a beauty pageant?  
  
The whole point of going undercover was that you were invisible; you sunk into the background and were the eyes and ears of everyone at the department. But how could she do that with her appearance and behaviour? She'd stick out like a sore thumb. Whenever she'd seen pageants, the women had always been crying with happiness when they won, their hair and make-up immaculate, and their perfect bodies squeezed into swimsuits and bikinis that left little to the imagination. Shuddering, she got to her feet and paced the room. No- she'd just have to tell them she couldn't do it.  
  
But she LIKED her job. Crazy as it sounded, she enjoyed working for the Ministry and knowing she was helping others and making a good living. Didn't she deserve it after seven years of training? And that wasn't going to be taken away from her: not by a pompous red haired authoritarian, or a balding Minister, and especially not by a crazed psycho determined to murder some pageant bimbos. But she COULDN'T do the job- no makeover could change her that drastically, and she especially couldn't change her behaviour.  
  
Hermione hated the women that obsessed over nails and skin, the women who lived up to the expectations of men that females were nothing but superficial airheads. She was proud to say that she was a woman who was making her own living in something deemed by many as a "man's job." But how would she be able to keep her job AND turn down this ridiculous case? She couldn't degrade herself that much for anything.  
  
She turned out of her office, locking it lazily with her wand and putting it back in the pocket of her black trouser suit, as she turned down the corridor and proceeded along it. There had been many modifications made to the Ministry building recently (mainly due to Hermione complaining it was practically ancient), one of which there had been made a canteen where staff could eat during breaks or whenever they were hungry. Hermione turned into it, the familiar smell of mashed potatoes wafting up to greet her grateful nostrils.  
  
After impatiently waiting in the small queue and complaining about the service at the top of her voice, she was served with mashed potatoes, chicken and gravy. She grabbed a seat on a solitary table and tucked in with fervour, a little bit of gravy dribbling down her chin in her eagerness.  
  
"Hey Granger," Smith called. He was one of her associates, a round plump man in his late forties. "How did the meeting with Grant and Weasley go?"  
  
"Rubbish," she grimaced, still chewing on her chicken. "They want me to take the new pageant case, and they said if I don't then I'm sacked."  
  
Smith smirked a little. "That ain't the one where we need someone undercover? Granger mate, sorry but it wouldn't work."  
  
"I know that." Hermione's tone was flat and unemotional, but inside she was a trifle hurt; did he think she wouldn't be able to handle it? "But they insisted, and they've given me an hour to decide whether I'll do it or not." She slammed her knife and fork down on her plate moodily, wondering if that would be the last time she ever ate a meal in the Ministry canteen. Probably, she thought to herself.  
  
"Granger," came a drawling voice, and stood nearby was Malfoy, a tray balanced carelessly in one hand, the other in his trouser pocket. He did as usual, look cruelly handsome, with his pale hair slicked back to reveal a masculine but slightly pointed face; his pale grey eyes were fixed malevolently on Hermione and his stance was just as arrogant and proud. The very air about him seemed to be superior; hell, even his clothes were better than everyone else's.  
  
"What, Malfoy?" Hermione snapped, folding her arms and staring back just as unflinchingly at her colleague.  
  
"Did you accept it?"  
  
Hermione stopped being disdainful, temporarily shocked at what he had said. "Excuse me?"  
  
"Did you accept the undercover job?" Malfoy repeated slowly, exaggerating every syllable as though speaking to an infant.  
  
"What makes you think I've been offered it?" Hermione was suspicious- exactly how did Malfoy know Grant had asked her to do it?  
  
"It was a lucky guess," Malfoy said, grinning in a sneering sort of way. "Well, of course, I might have got the impression they would ask you... mainly because I was the one who suggested it."  
  
"WHAT?!" Hermione sat up, anger flooding through her veins. "Why the fuck would you want me to do it?"  
  
"Because I thought you'd enjoy it," Malfoy leered. "I know how you've always cared so much about your appearance Granger... I'm sure you'll enjoy dressing up all pretty in heels and a pink skirt. Tell me, what will you wear underneath? A thong?"  
  
Hermione snapped. Fury and humiliation was blinding her senses so much that she lunged at him, just grazing his shoulder with her fist. "You knew that I would hate this sort of job," she snapped. "God, you're so conniving!"  
  
"That's me," Malfoy grinned. "Don't be too angry. And best of all, I also managed to slip in that if you didn't take the job, maybe they should consider how seriously you take your work." His face gave a mock look of sympathy. "Ah well, looks like it was too tough for Granger to go undercover as an actual female."  
  
In the heat of the argument, Hermione decided spontaneously what she was going to do. "I'm taking the job," she replied angrily, "and then at least while I'm undercover I get away from you!"  
  
"Oh I don't think so- honey," he leered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "As I happen to be Head of the investigation, you'll be seeing me everyday."  
  
Hermione groaned. Trust Malfoy to have been made leader of the case! Now he was going to have power over her- something that she didn't like at all. Shivering at the thought of him being even more superior than usual, she got to her feet and scraped her plate into the bin.  
  
"I've taken the job," she said bitterly. "But it doesn't mean I'll take any shit from you, Malfoy."  
  
"I'm quivering," he answered coldly, and took his seat next to Smith. "We'll continue this discussion later."  
  
"Can't wait." Hermione stalked out of the canteen, heading straight for Grant's office further along the corridor. She burst in without knocking, still flustered and raged from her encounter with Malfoy.  
  
"I'll do it."  
  
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A bit of a short chapter I know, but mainly this was all tension between Hermione and Draco. I just wanted to get the message over that she only accepted because Malfoy believed she couldn't do it- that's what drives our Hermy on! I hope this was easy enough to understand, if not don't hesitate to post and I'll try and sort out any bits that didn't make sense. Thanks and I hope to read lots of reviews! (By the way, the next chapter will be a lot longer) Emma xxxx 


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione and the E.W.B.P (European Witchcraft Beauty Pageant)  
  
*** The reviews I've received so far have been really kind and encouraging- two things I like! Please keep them coming in because without you I wouldn't continue this fic; I have always doubted my own writing ability and I need your words of support/criticism.  
  
Disclaimer: The majority of characters belong to Joanne Rowling, and the plot is based on the film Miss Congeniality. You can't sue! Ha!  
  
Natyslacks~ Hey you always manage to be the first reviewer, how do you do it? Lol I always get excited with your reviews because they're honest but funny (you make me laugh with some of the things you come out with!) and you're really nice to me- I don't deserve it. Thanks again!  
  
Nishdafish and Felbalfy~ Thank you both for your reviews, and to just clear a little thing up you both mentioned: I know that the plot is very similar to Miss Congeniality but it is different because I incorporated Harry Potter into it and also had to add and take away a few little things. A lot of it will be different to the film, but some will be similar. I've written it so that everyone can read and understand this, not just people who liked the film. I have tried to distance it as far away as possible, so that non- knowers will not be put off.  
  
Aquaprincess1~ Lol thanks :) I don't know if Harry and Ron will be in this story and to be honest, I doubt it because this is very AU and I'm leaving out non-related things to the story. I loved the review, thanks! As for jealous guys... there might be, there might not. Who knows? ;)  
  
Dark star~ Thank you very much; I hope this chapter's also to your taste! As for her being Miss Finland, the accent will be tackled today, but you can just imagine what sort of questions it will lead to at the pageant! Lol I won't give too much away...  
  
Thank you to EVERYONE who reviewed- I posted replies to most people but if you didn't get one, I'm mainly thanking you here. It's just that I have to post to people who either asked a question, raised an important issue or spent tons of time on their review, because I owe it to them and I am extremely grateful. Please keep reviewing!  
  
STORY SIDENOTE: Okay this is the last time I'm tackling this issue so it doesn't get boring and hold the story up. This story is AU, and as you will realise later in this very chapter, Hermione will meet familiar characters from the books, e.g. Remus Lupin. However, for the sake of this story, she will NEVER have met them before. I have creative license, lol!  
  
Without further ado, here's Chapter Three. ***  
  
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Chapter 3  
  
"Remind me what I'm doing here," Hermione said grumpily, casting her eyes around at the familiar wizarding pub, the Leaky Cauldron. All manners of magical people sat here eating and drinking, but none of them looked like whom they were searching for.  
  
"You're here to become an undercover beauty contestant, and don't you forget it," her companion Draco Malfoy answered grimly, smoothing his hand through his pale hair. Hermione cast a look of deepest loathing in his direction, but said nothing; he wasn't worth getting sacked over. Admittedly, the idea of punching him seemed rather pleasurable, but at the end of the day her job was the most important thing to her. Instead, she turned to the matter at hand.  
  
The day before, Weasley had spent numerous hours communicating via the Floo Network with the owners of the pageant, so that they could set up a meeting to discuss what was going to happen. Finally they had agreed after much persuasion, and Hermione and Malfoy had been sent to meet them in the Leaky Cauldron (Weasley had insisted they must work as a "team". Hermione just glowered at the thought).  
  
"Over here," came a sullen voice, and Hermione turned to a small table in the corner where an elderly but very well dressed witch sat. Everything about her had been groomed impeccably, from her blonde beehive hairstyle to her outlined eyes from behind pink framed glasses, down to her luminous neon pink high heels. Her painted lips pursed at the sight of Hermione, and it was obvious how disapproving she was.  
  
"Good morning Miss Skeeter," Malfoy said easily, turning on his usual charm. Hermione scowled; she hated the way he could twist people around his little finger with one bat of his long-lashed eyelids, a flash of those charming dimples and a brush of his pale hair. Was she the only one who found him totally aggravating and fake?  
  
"Good morning," Rita Skeeter replied a little less sullenly, and suddenly all her attention was on Malfoy- just like that. It had only taken three seconds but already she had fallen for his appeal. "I trust you must be the Aurors working on this case. Mr Weasley already knows what I think," her glasses flashed dangerously; "but in case he hasn't already told you, I'll enlighten you. This is absolutely ridiculous! It is undermining the whole pageant and what it stands for. If it wasn't for the danger that the young witches would be in, I would have said no."  
  
"Miss Skeeter, it is absolutely necessary that we don't compromise the witch's safety," Hermione said earnestly. "Without an undercover agent in there, who knows what could happen? At least this way we get all the info we need and can ensure safety for everyone. It'll be cleared up as quickly as possible and as soon as it is, we can all head home."  
  
"I see," Rita Skeeter said coldly. "And your name is?"  
  
"Hermione Granger."  
  
Miss Skeeter nodded, and then gave a look of disbelief. "NO? Surely not-? But aren't you the one supposed to be the one going undercover?"  
  
"That's right," Malfoy said, smirking slightly.  
  
Rita Skeeter snorted with derision, and began a raucous appeal of cruel laughter. Hermione felt a sharp stab of annoyance and, somewhere in the depths of her stomach, rather hurt. Why did people keep reacting like this? Was she really that ugly? Suddenly the old woman stopped laughing, as if realising that she'd gone too far.  
  
"I'm sorry," Rita said, though she didn't look it. "I'll send an Owl to Remus Lupin- he specialises in extreme cases, if you know what I mean. He can prepare you so you can fit in."  
  
****  
  
After a while, Rita Skeeter had left suddenly, so that only Hermione and Malfoy remained at the table, waiting for Remus Lupin to arrive. She avoided his eye contact, choosing to stare at the floor instead, so she wouldn't be tempted to do something she'd regret. All the while her blood boiled at the thought of having to work with him- as his PARTNER.  
  
"He's coming Granger," Malfoy drawled, sitting up more alertly. Hermione stopped staring at the floor and looked up to see a tall, dark haired man stood next to her, his hand outstretched ready to be shaken. She shook it, as did Malfoy, and then the man sat down opposite them where Rita had sat some hours before.  
  
"Nice to meet you," the man said, smiling wanly. "I'm Remus Lupin, pageant trainee and supervisor- and you are?"  
  
"Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger," Malfoy said immediately, his cold eyes casting disdainful looks at Lupin's rather shabby robes. Hermione felt a rush of sympathy for this tired but friendly looking man, and knew he would be of assistance, even if he didn't look the part.  
  
Lupin raised his eyebrows slightly at Hermione's name but didn't say anything. He began taking some parchment, some ink and a quill out of his worn looking suitcase and placed them carefully on the table in front of him. "So you're Miss Granger," he said, writing her name at the top of the parchment. "And you'll be wanting a makeover, your hair styled- the full works, right? Manicure, pedicure... waxing, teeth bleaching, eyebrow defining... hair dying, cutting, conditioning, styling, straightening... as well as make-up, tanning, the clothing department, facials... and a few hundred other things. Okay- so when do you need to be ready for?"  
  
Hermione gulped. "I need to enter the pageant in 24 hours."  
  
Remus Lupin's eyes widened in shock; his quill stopped scribbling away furiously on the parchment and dropped to the table. He looked temporarily stunned. "Excuse me?" he whispered.  
  
"She needs to be ready in 24 hours," Malfoy cut in. "Tomorrow morning she has to arrive on the bus and head for the pageant like all the other witches."  
  
"It had better start straight away then," Lupin said worriedly, looking rather doubtful. "Have you two got broomsticks nearby? You'll need to be contacting the other members of your team to come down, because this is going into operation immediately."  
  
Hermione's stomach turned- she was going to be made over, so she could enter a beauty pageant in 24 hours. It all seemed too unreal to be true, like it was some insane dream she was going to wake up from at any minute.  
  
It seemed like hours before all the team finally arrived down at the Leaky Cauldron, and even then transport had to be sorted. Many had forgotten their broomsticks and had to hire one from Diagon Alley, as well as the fact that most of the Aurors were complaining they were hungry so they had to stop in Florian Fortescues. Eventually everyone set off behind Remus Lupin, who was leading the way on his ancient broomstick, everyone else travelling in an arc around him. He wouldn't tell them where they were going, but it wasn't long before they found out. He dismounted his broom in front of a ramshackle, deserted manor near a Muggle wood.  
  
"Where are we?" Smith asked, turning his podgy head in all directions. "I hope you know what you're doing, Lupin."  
  
"Oh I do all right," he said grimly. "I had to sort out thirty different trained witches and wizards to come down here to make her over." He thumbed in the direction of the manor. "Are you ready Miss Granger?"  
  
"I- I think so," she said tremulously. How was she this nervous? She'd battled robbers, confronted convicted murderers, taken on Weasley when he was in a bad mood... and she was worried about a silly little makeover?  
  
"And what are we expected to do while you play Miss Makeover?" Malfoy asked Remus Lupin, dislike etched into his cold, striking features. It wasn't often Malfoy looked so... twisted, even if he was a highly disagreeable man.  
  
"You can either stand outside waiting or disappear for a few hours and return later," Remus said calmly, not jumping to the bait. "Nobody's allowed in... at least, not yet. You'll only get in the experts way while they prepare her."  
  
"What was the point in bringing us here then?" Malfoy demanded, to an echo of agreement from the other Aurors standing around.  
  
"So you could see the manor and return here later. Miss Granger, if you please." Remus took a firm grip on Hermione's arm and steered her up to the door of the manor, which was an ancient rickety drawbridge type entrance. He waved his wand and muttered something under his breath; seconds later the drawbridge lowered and they stepped over it, crossing into the spacious, dank room that lay within.  
  
Hermione coughed slightly, a musty smell hitting her lungs and making her gasp- but it wasn't just that. All around her dozens of people milled, totally preoccupied with what they were doing, whether it was attending to tables laden with cosmetics, pushing large sun beds out into the open or scrubbing at sinks and tables ready for Hermione. One in particular looked up and smiled when they saw Hermione.  
  
"A hopeless case," he grinned, "for everyone except us."  
  
"Er... thanks." Hermione was getting used to this rather negative reaction by now, and didn't even bother to scowl. Besides, she was too busy watching, fascinated, the two women nearby, who were standing beside sinks and dipping paintbrushes into pots.  
  
"... A little too brown for her colouring," one of the women said, glancing over at Hermione. "I'm thinking more of a mahogany, myself..."  
  
"But wouldn't blonde streaks compliment her?" the other argued, dipping some scissors under the sink. "By though Cheryl, this one's a tough one, ain't it? No wonder Lupin pulled out all the stops and ordered us all... it's going to be hard making her look beauty pageant pretty."  
  
"Cheryl, Meryl," Lupin called out sharply. "Stop gossiping and help this young lady look her best. I'll be over in the eyebrow department..." Remus turned to Hermione. "You'll be getting your teeth bleached and your hair styled first. I'll be seeing you in a couple of hours, okay?"  
  
Hermione didn't speak; she didn't trust herself not to vomit all over him. WHY was she so worried?  
  
"You'll be fine," he whispered, as though reading her thoughts, and gave her a brief smile before rushing off in the opposite direction, shouting, "I hope you've got that pedicure machine sorted... and I want to talk to the bikini wax assistant!"  
  
Hermione tried to forget she'd heard this, grimacing at the thought of what lay in sort for her.  
  
"Come here dear," one of the women called, and Hermione was dragged onto the bed, where the women began fussing around her, desperately trying to tug a brush through her wiry mane.  
  
"Is it always this knotty?" the other woman asked exasperatedly.  
  
"Yep," Hermione said, but before she could elaborate on her hair's rebelliousness, further dentists and teeth bleachers had cornered her, all talking ten to the dozen and pulling at her mouth. "Oi! What are you doing?" she snapped, almost biting one of the men's fingers off.  
  
"Seems like we need that new spell," someone said grimly, and before she knew it someone's wand was being poked into her mouth.  
  
Time seemed to drag on for Hermione, and after about eight hours she got used to the incessant insults, poking, grabbing, tugging, wand waving, prodding, stabbing, digging, pulling and anything else the experts deemed appropriate in her beautifying. She lost count of how many procedures she'd had, but all she could remember was the scream wrenching pain of the bikini wax, which Lupin had insisted on her having.  
  
She'd also been under the sun bed, had three different facials, had her hair tugged at until she thought it had all fell out, been made over with thousands of different cosmetics, had about thirty different spells performed onto her and was currently in the process of being squeezed into a tight pale dress that clung to her body's slim form for dear life.  
  
"I can't wear this," she cried, hugging her arms to herself self- consciously. "I'm half naked!"  
  
"You look amazing," Meryl sighed, examining her. "You've gone from a trampy wretch to a beauty queen!"  
  
"God, I'm good," Cheryl said rapturously, combing Hermione's hair for the thousandth time. "Would you like to take a look in the mirror honey?"  
  
"No," Hermione said quickly. "It's six in the morning, I haven't slept or eaten anything except mangy carrot sticks, I have gel in my hair, I'm indecently dressed and the last time I was this naked in public I was coming out of the uterus... I doubt I want to look in the mirror. Can I go yet?"  
  
"Oh yes, it's time," Lupin answered, a little smile on his face. "Everybody's packing up now. Come on; let's go show you to your colleagues. They're waiting for you outside."  
  
She was glad to be leaving the stuffy manor, which she had spent almost 24 very painful hours being tugged at, but didn't like the thought of seeing anyone like this... especially Malfoy. What would he say? They would be waiting outside with the broomsticks so they could get ready to take her to the pageant. Hermione followed the thirty beauticians, witches, wizards, dentists and other professionals to the drawbridge, which had been lowered so they could leave, and prepared to face the world.  
  
"Just wait till Malfoy sees this," Lupin muttered, grinning from ear to ear, and pushed the perfectly groomed Hermione Granger out into the open.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Long chapter, as I promised... the next one probably won't be as long, because I decided to get most of the boring bit out of the way and prepare for the after-makeover explosive scenes I hope it was okay and not a little rushed. If anybody got lost in the plotline, here's the usual basic run- through:  
  
(1) Hermione and Malfoy met the pageant host, Rita Skeeter, and she called up Remus Lupin to help Hermione to look beautiful. (2) Lupin took Hermione to a rundown manor and in less than 24 hours made her over so she can go to the pageant. (3) Now she's preparing to face the other Aurors... the next chapter is the description of her new look, and everyone's reactions!  
  
Pleeeeease review, good or bad, I want to hear your thoughts! I need to know what I'm doing right or wrong so I can either correct it or carry on doing it the right way. I look forward to reading them. ^_^  
  
A/N: For those who have seen the real film Miss Congeniality, did anyone notice a line I stole from it? "The last time I was this naked I was coming out of the uterus..." hehe, I love that line, and I just thought I'd take advantage of it! 


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione and the E.W.B.P (European Witchcraft Beauty Pageant)  
  
*** Over 50 reviews! Seriously, I am in deep shock and extremely pleased- never before have I received so many for just three chapters. Please keep it up, because you encourage me to carry on typing up chapters! Usually there are 3-4 chapters put up a week so you'll find one quite often! Sometimes I might have to make you wait a little longer than usual and I apologise for that, but within the next two months I have my flute grade and my SATs exams, so it's study study study right now for me.  
  
Natyslacks~ hope this keeps you off your coursework a little bit longer! Lol thanks very much, what do you think of this chapter? I look forward to another crazy review!  
  
Smokeline~ As you'll find out in this chapter, the makeover results are really quite remarkable... well anyway, keep reading and you'll find out! Thanks for the review!  
  
Le Brittes~ Thanks very much! Your idea sounds really cool- why don't you try writing it? I'm sure you're a better writer than you think.  
  
SiriuslyMione~ hi Caitlin! *waves* I remember you from Hermione Grows Up- lol I got some cool reviews from you in the past. As for the- interesting- first review of this chapter, no problem; you certainly were recognised! Thank you for the posts and please keep it up.  
  
Midnight Solitaire~ Hehe, yep, I don't know about the line though... read on for more information on that! And we all know Tom Felton rocks... *drools* he is waaay hot!  
  
DemonicallyDeliciousWithin~ Thank you very much for the nice long review :) hehe, yes I realise I shouldn't rush; I'll try and bear it in mind. Hopefully time passage will slow down during the following chapters, as this is when things really heat up... after all, Hermione's had her makeover... Thanks again and keep posting.  
  
Livvy~ thanks pal, and no, Hermione has never met Rita before this fic. It's totally AU, which means that everything is adapted to my story and nobody will have met before.  
  
NOTE: HOW many reviews did I receive about that song? "You wanna hug me, you wanna kiss me, love me and marry me..." or whatever it goes! Lol I don't really know if I can possibly put it into this story without making it sound totally ludicrous but if I can, I will, if only to please all you people!  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine, being Harry Potter and all, and the plot's based on the wonderful film Miss Congeniality. ***  
  
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Chapter 4  
  
"What could be possibly be taking this long?" Malfoy asked exasperatedly, leaning against the bonnet of the pale blue car. He and four other Aurors had been waiting for six hours now, even after returning from a sleep back home. But STILL Lupin insisted Hermione wasn't ready.  
  
"Yeah, I knew she wasn't model material but in this time, even I could look beautiful," Smith said from inside the car. "Does anyone want a doughnut?" He eagerly pulled out several squashed boxes from underneath his feet, which were immediately pounced on by the other Aurors and devoured.  
  
"I'm not hungry," Malfoy said, still not getting in the car. He stroked it with his fingers; despite being mainly used by Muggles, he had always had a passion for cars. The way the engine hummed and it travelled along as smoothly as if you were floating, was a magical sensation- sadly, this was only a Ministry of Magic car and felt nothing like that whatsoever.  
  
Lighting up a cigarette, he paced the ground in front of him relentlessly, not being able to work out why he was so on edge. Was it the thought of seeing Granger resembling anything other than a mutant? Or, even more unlikely, seeing her resemble something feminine? It wasn't going to happen- in fact, any minute now he thought Lupin was going to pop out from the drawbridge and announce nothing could be done, sorry, she's too ugly, you'll have to get someone else.  
  
"You're making me feel dizzy Malfoy," an Auror complained. "We might as well fuck off for a bit and come back later. What's the point in hanging around?"  
  
Taking a deep drag on his cigarette, he was surprised to hear himself say: "Not yet. It won't be long now."  
  
Time dragged by and still there was no sign of Hermione. Smith had managed to doze off, a bit of cream and jam still stuck on his podgy chin, whereas Walker and Hynes looked as if they were in comas. It was only Malfoy who continued to grit his teeth and watch, still not getting in the car. He was waiting.  
  
"Let's go," he said dejectedly, hours later, and was just about to climb into the vehicle when a slamming sound could be heard from behind him. Turning his head, he noticed the rickety drawbridge being lowered, and dozens of stylists could be seen emerging from the dark entrance.  
  
"It's time boys," Walker said gleefully, arousing from his sleepy state.  
  
Time seemed to go by as if in slow motion: limitless men and women walked past carrying bags, pushing trolleys, heaving suitcases and dragging mini vehicles loaded with make-up and other vanity enhancers; Remus Lupin himself strolled past, grinning rather harder than usual; a whole row of women dressed in pink overalls passed Malfoy, smiling and giggling. And seconds later, though it seemed like years, Hermione appeared.  
  
But it couldn't be her!  
  
But it was.  
  
Long, thick mahogany hair fell upon her shoulders, ripples of gold cascading through it in a glistening waterfall. Large eyes like pools of coffee gazed out from underneath arched eyebrows; a pert nose (how had he not noticed that before?) and a pair of full red lips enhanced the strikingly sharp featured face that descended into a swan neck and slender shoulders. But that wasn't the best thing- her figure was like that of no other. Pert, full breasts and curvaceous hips were contrasted with a petite waist, giving her the distinct hourglass curves that made Malfoy and most of the male population's jaws drop. She wore a pale blue dress that clung enticingly to every curve and crevice upon her body, revealing the swell of her breasts and the tenderness of her neck and cleavage. The dress stopped mid thigh, revealing long, tanned legs ending with white stilettos.  
  
This couldn't be Hermione Granger. It just couldn't be.  
  
***  
  
Meanwhile, Hermione's heart was hard in her chest at the sight of everyone's eyes upon her? Why did they have to stare? It didn't make her feel any better at all; it just made her mouth go dry and her steps stumbling. But if she were like this now... what would she be like at the beauty pageant? There'd be more than a couple of Aurors with their eyes on her.  
  
She noticed with disdain that Malfoy in particular was gazing at her, and tossed her head proudly, showing him she didn't care. The movement of her head sent ripples down her silky hair, but Hermione was unaware... all she could think of was getting into the car and away from here with minimal fuss.  
  
"You look beautiful," Lupin smiled and kissed her on the cheek; and for the first time in ten years Hermione felt herself blush, though she did pull away rather quickly.  
  
"Yeah well, thank the make-up artists," she answered wryly, stiffening at the sight of Malfoy making his way towards her, a strange look upon his face.  
  
"Granger," he began, almost hesitantly, but was promptly cut off.  
  
"I haven't slept for two days, eaten nothing but carrot sticks, Lupin's told me I have to give up smoking and I have gel in my hair to boot- don't mess with me Malfoy," she warned sharply, not looking him in the eye.  
  
"My pleasure," he said curtly. "Now hurry up and get in the car."  
  
Following everyone else, she made her way to the Ministry car- but walking in her heels was almost impossible. With a sharp twist she tripped on her heel and landed flat on her face, her dress riding up and her hair tangled around her head.  
  
"I'm okay," she said breathlessly, getting shakily to her feet with little grace and tottering into the car.  
  
"That's her alright," Smith chuckled, revving up the car.  
  
It had been magically enhanced so that everyone- Lupin, Malfoy, Walker, Smith, Hynes, Parks and Hermione- managed to fit in with comfort and enough space to park all of Hermione's belongings too. She was squeezed in between Lupin and Malfoy, the latter of whom was staring straight ahead, his mouth set in a straight line.  
  
"I'd better take this opportunity to explain all the equipment you'll have attached to yourself," Lupin said matter-of-factly, opening one of the suitcases. "Here's your pageant banner, you have to wrap it around your shoulders;" here Lupin passed Hermione a long sash that she put on rather inexpertly (it read, of course, "Miss Finland"), "and here's your identity card and other equipment, as well as your ear plug, which magically transmits waves to us so we can hear exactly what you're saying, and here's your pin camera that you keep attached to your chest. And lastly, your wand."  
  
A huge pile of equipment was tipped onto Hermione's lap and she sorted through it, examining each piece incredulously. Examining the identity card, she gave a deep groan.  
  
"Who thought of giving me such a cheesy bimbo name?" Hermione demanded, glaring around suspiciously. "Hermie-Lou Freebush? C'mon!"  
  
All of the other Aurors in the car stifled giggles and suddenly became interested in staring at the traffic ahead, evidently trying not to smile. Only Malfoy turned to her, a sneer plastered across his cruel, hard features. "I knew that was the sort of image you wanted to convey," he said maliciously.  
  
"If we weren't on this mission Malfoy, I'd punch your lights out," she said quietly, anger bubbling inside her.  
  
The rest of the journey was passed in stony silence, with much uncomfortable and guilty shuffling from the other Aurors, who regretted hurting their colleague and friend. Only Malfoy appeared to be coolly oblivious or unaffected by making Hermione upset, though of course, she told herself, it wasn't like she cared anyway.  
  
Finally they did arrive, and all of them shuffled out of the car, preparing to say goodbye to Hermione. She glanced up nervously at the cheery cream building, which had a banner announcing it as: "Beauty Pageant Headquarters".  
  
"There's several Portkeys inside," Lupin told her, passing suitcases to a few bulky guards standing nearby. "In ten minutes the Portkeys will be ready, so we can't waste time. Inside will be the other Pageant girls- remember to stick to your mission and find out as much as you can about the potential killer."  
  
"I will," Hermione promised. "But I'll be seeing you all soon, right?"  
  
"Yes," Malfoy answered abruptly from nearby. "We have to take a different route, but we'll be in touch tonight."  
  
"Can't wait," Hermione said coldly. "Well... see you later then."  
  
"Bye Granger," Smith said, patting her gruffly on the back. "Remember to lay off the doughnuts, and Weasley said he'll kill you if he finds out you've been smoking."  
  
"I made sure she couldn't smoke or eat doughnuts," Lupin answered, laughing. "I took her cigarettes and money."  
  
That's what you think, Hermione thought silently, subtly feeling the slight lumps against her dress. She had to keep her wand and other equipment attached to her leg with Velcro under her dress so it wasn't visible... but her real "treasures" (chocolate, cigarettes, money and various other delights that had managed to escape sharp eyes) were hidden in her underwear, so Lupin didn't have a clue. Trying to look innocent, Hermione turned to leave.  
  
"Bye!" was chorused by everyone- everyone, of course, except for Draco Malfoy. There was something strange and brooding about his behaviour- even stranger than usual. The hawk-like handsome features had been gazing at her with something other than animosity today.  
  
Putting Malfoy out of her mind, Hermione stepped through the doors and found herself in a room crowded with around forty other women, all of them indescribably beautiful. Hermione felt extremely self-conscious (A/N: don't forget, Hermione hasn't seen herself in a mirror yet) and tugged at her dress before stepping over to Rita Skeeter who was standing in the centre of the room.  
  
"Hi," she muttered quietly, as not to attract attention, though she needn't have bothered, for everyone was chatting and there was a lot of bustle with bags.  
  
"Hello," Rita said, then did a double take. "Is that- is that Miss Granger?"  
  
"No, it's Miss Hermie-Lou Freebush," Hermione said meaningfully, emphasising each word. Rita was still staring, she noted with a stab of annoyance.  
  
"You look absolutely perfect," Rita said, though strangely enough, without any real flattery in her words. It was as if she was gritting her teeth as she said it. "Sonorus," she said, taking out her wand, and immediately her voice became magnified. "Good morning girls- it's time for the Portkeys to be passed around now. There's one between around six, so if you could just touch the nearest pageant poster, as they're all Portkeys- that's right, that's right."  
  
Every girl approached the nearest poster and raised tentative fingers to it. "According to my calculations," Rita continued, touching one of the posters herself. "It should be around- nowwwwwwwwwwwwwww."  
  
And with a whoosh! Hermione found herself in the Beauty Pageant Hotel.  
  
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Hope that was okay- there'll be proper introductions to the other Pageant girls next chapter, and there'll be a few familiar faces. Heehee! Please click on that lil button, I want to hear your opinions! Emma xxxx 


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione and the E.W.B.P (European Witchcraft Beauty Pageant)  
  
*** This chapter's the one where Hermione arrives and makes acquaintances with the other girls, so sorry because this one might be a little slow. I just have to establish all the other characters and so on- but stick with me, because things will definitely heat up later on. And another thing: I'm really sorry that the last chapter was quite similar to the film; I realise that perhaps I should have made it a little more original, but I promise that from here onwards it will be a bit more independent, though the main plot will stay the same (after all, it is based on Miss Congeniality).  
  
Also, in this chapter you will meet some of the other girls at the pageant, and some of them will be speaking perfect English, whereas others will have a slight accent. On the whole however, the majority can speak English very well and have no trace of any accent at all.  
  
Disclaimer: Most characters copyright of J.K.R, the plot copyright of Warner Bros who made the film Miss Congeniality.  
  
Natyslacks~ Yep, you do seem to be a live wire! School coming to a close is it? Wish mine was. Anyway, thanks for the review and keep posting.  
  
Livvy~ Yeah, lol, Hermione smokes because she's always stressed nowadays! She adores doughnuts, though to be honest I can't stand `em... I don't know why, I've hated them since I was a little kid. Thanks darl and you'll find some people she's met before in this chapter!  
  
Smokeline~ hehe, she's got a temper all right! All that tobacco and sugar addiction... as for the lack of coordination- me too, I'm a clumsy oaf. *Knocks lamp over* Oops! See!  
  
Bride Of Malfoy~ thank you ~_^ I realise I should move away more from the film's plot and I'm definitely following that advice!  
  
SiriuslyMione~ yep, thanks for (both) reviews! Draco's a sexy git and to be honest, my fingers are tingling to write the erm... more interesting... scenes that will arrive in later chapters. The one's that make this fic R rated *wink* As for the club thing- hehe, I have some pretty good ideas about that!  
  
Zip~ lol, you're probably right. I am obvious- oh well.  
  
TrinityMarquise~ first of all thank you very much for the brutally honest review which pointed a few things out to me. Though it's hard not to take offence sometimes, I do realise that your review was tactful and meant with the best of intentions. It's true that Draco is a lot different to the character Eric in the film, because he's a totally different person really and a lot more cruel (though just as sexy!). Hermione is a smoker true, but she is twenty seven in this fic, it's not like she's a naughty teenager, she has an extremely stressful job and just because she's very honest and straight laced doesn't mean she can't smoke. My mother for example, smokes, and she always abides by the book and would never step out of line! I also think it adds to the plot for a scene coming later in the fic. You're absolutely right about the dialogue, I'll definitely try and make it more original. I realise my grammar slips occasionally. And thanks again, please keep reviewing- I'd like to see what you thought of this chappie!  
  
Without further ado, here's a (quite long) Chapter 5.  
  
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Chapter 5  
  
Hermione glanced around nervously, clutching at her bag with fumbling fingers, and wandered around the exquisite room, taking in all the details. The Pageant Hotel's foyer was decorated in pale cream with a deep oak desk, a stressed looking witch perched behind it. Beautiful portraits of former beauty queens lined the walls, their shining eyes winking and their pearly teeth gleaming whenever they smiled; the rugs on the floor were blood-red with swirled patterns and the lamps that festooned the walls shone with a homely glow. Oh, she could get used to living here all right.  
  
"Hands off," Rita Skeeter said rather sharply, as Hermione leant to touch an expensive looking china vase. "That one ornament is worth more than everything you own. Now girls," she said, in a much more chirpy voice; "you might want to follow me into the dining room where we can have something to eat. Don't worry ladies, we have a large low fat section." (Every witch except for Hermione let out a unanimous sigh of relief).  
  
Following the procession, Hermione approached the nearest gaggle of witches who were talking rapidly in different languages and eyeing their surroundings with awe. All of them were extremely beautiful, with silky hair, wide smiles and petite, slim frames that made Hermione's stomach turn. How would she ever fit in here?  
  
"Hermione!" someone screeched, and a witch threw herself onto Hermione, hugging her tightly. "Oh I never knew you'd be here, it's such a surprise," the woman continued, still not letting go.  
  
"But it isn't-?" Hermione said, not daring to believe herself. "Lavender?!"  
  
"Sure is," the woman trilled, eventually letting go and beaming at Hermione. The old school friend had bloomed into a remarkably pretty woman with large pale blue eyes and golden ringlets, not to mention a surprisingly voluptuous body squeezed into a pale pink dress. "You've changed so much Herm`," she continued happily (Hermione winced a the shortening of her name, which she'd always hated). "Ever since Seamus and I got married-"  
  
"You're married to Seamus?" Hermione cried.  
  
"Yes, didn't you know? We got married as soon as we left Hogwarts, remember the good old days, remember them? Ah, people always used to say Seamus and I were the perfect couple, and they were right! If it wasn't for him I probably wouldn't be in this competition you know, it's really surprising that they let me. I mean, I was born in Ireland but I don't think they let that count do they? But now I LIVE in Ireland and everything, and I'm married to an Irishman, they just HAD to let me enter, and it helps I lived there until I was three. Is that how you became Miss Finland, Hermione?"  
  
"Erm- yeah," Hermione said, a little surprised that Lavender had actually managed to talk for so long without pausing to breathe. "I was born in Finland."  
  
"Isn't it surprising that three students from Hogwarts got in here?" Lavender said confidentially. "It's not a surprise with you though Herm`. At school you didn't really make the best of yourself did you? Now you look really pretty, absolutely amazing, but back then, I'm sure you don't mind me saying but you were a trifle- ugly, dearest. Then there's me, Miss Ireland." She giggled, her behaviour just as bubbly as always.  
  
"You said there's three Hogwarts students here," Hermione said, frowning. "But who's the third?"  
  
"Oh don't you know?" Lavender said, looking shocked. "It's Miss England. Hasn't she changed, Hermione? I'm still in shock to be honest, of all the people they could choose! She was awful looking at the school and so STRANGE, but now she's so different, a bit like you honey. Oh I still can't believe the transformation, but she's as odd as ever. Just won't mingle, Herm!"  
  
"But who is it?" Hermione asked impatiently. Lavender pointed a manicured finger behind them, to where a lone figure was making her way across into the dining room, and Hermione let out a gasp of recognition.  
  
The pale blonde locks that used to be so straggly, were now so thick and full of vitality that her hair bounced when she walked, and since it was still waist length she looked like she had a stream spouting down her back. The blue eyes, usually so protuberant and frog-like, were now like glittering diamonds, still large, but more almond shaped. She wore a long pale pink robe, opting for a more covered up look to the other girls, who were wearing dresses and skirts, but she stood out just as much as ever for her strange quality and dream-like state. It was Luna Lovegood, but boy had she changed.  
  
"Luna," Lavender said cheerily, pulling the girl over and kissing her on the cheek graciously. "How've you been? You're looking very well."  
  
The witch stopped staring into space and glanced at Hermione and Lavender, the confusion eventually leaving her face and placed with a dawning acknowledgement. "Lavender, Hermione," she said slowly, interrogating them with her weird glare. "Gryffindors, I remember. The Quibbler has been doing rather well recently," she said, as though they had just been discussing the magazine. "We just did an article on lap dancing pixies. I think it went down rather well."  
  
Lavender furiously suppressed a giggle and ushered a bemused Hermione and a smiling Luna to a table where a few other girls were sitting. Evidently Lavender had already been acquainted with everyone, because she began chatting immediately. Hermione just glanced around at the table, noticing things that most others didn't; because of her job she was observant with the tiniest details. The tables were long and laden with scones and other pastries, the tablecloths of pure white linen. Hermione grabbed a pastry and tucked in, then realised that all of the other Aurors (the thought of Malfoy in particular made her grimace) would be watching the scene from the pinhole camera attached to her chest, and listening from the magical earplug in her earring.  
  
"So girls," Lavender continued in her high voice. "This is Hermione, she's Miss Finland, and you already know Luna, Miss England." The other girls smiled welcomingly at Hermione, but seemed to ignore Luna, as though she wasn't there. Luna didn't even seem to have noticed; she'd taken the latest edition of The Quibbler out of her bag and was reading it thoroughly. "Girls, this is Paola from Italy," a small, dark haired girl with beautiful dark eyes winked at Hermione; "Esperenza from Spain" a tanned curvaceous woman in a tiny red dress wiggled her talons at her; "Lotte from Germany" a red-haired witch with a spattering of freckles across her cute button nose grinned, "and Fleur from France." The last witch was one Hermione had met before, and she took no pleasure in seeing her again.  
  
Fleur Delacour without doubt had always been an extremely attractive witch but just now Hermione had never seen anyone look so exquisite. Her silvery hair had been twisted into an elegant knot at the top of her head; her large long lashed pale eyes batting lazily at the other pageant contestants. Ruby red lips pursed into a half smile, though it didn't stretch to her high cheekbones and didn't alter her expression. Around her pale neck was a sparkling diamond necklace that enhanced her flawless features and gave her the aura of something holy, like an angel. The man that was serving them food couldn't take his eyes off her; indeed, every male inhabitant of the room seemed to have their gaze trained onto Miss Delacour and didn't seem in any hurry to take it off her.  
  
"`Ermione Granger, I zink," Fleur said, her French accent particularly strong. "Why ees it everyone except moi, can speak Eenglish so perfectly?"  
  
"I was only born in Finland, Fleur," Hermione answered smoothly, taking a big bite out of her sausage roll. "I'm sure everyone here has about the same knowledge of English as you."  
  
"Well I've lived in Spain all my life and people are always telling me my English is beautiful," Esperenza said, shrugging.  
  
"It is," Lavender said gushingly, and Esperenza beamed, a little pink blush appearing on her cheeks. "It's like, as Seamus was saying the other day..."  
  
The conversation descended into girlie nothings and Hermione began to drift off, taking more notice of the food in front of her. She devoured as much as possible, knowing later that Lupin would make sure she ate nothing but "rabbit food" as she called it. What's more, to her the conversation was so mind-numbingly dull that she needed something to do. Girlie topics had never fascinated her, and that was one of the reasons she'd always had male friends; the chitchat, gossip and lipstick banter not only confused her but also bored her. What was the point in spending time with superficial airheads when you could talk with a man and get straight to the point, safe in the knowledge they won't bitch behind your back and split hairs? Men, usually, were straight to the point and their rude toilet humour had always amused Hermione- much more than the finer points of mascara did, anyway.  
  
The Italian girl, Paola, was speaking now, and Hermione noticed that she was much softer spoken and her English, though without any accent, was lilting and almost soothing. "I think this pageant is good opportunity," she murmured. "It doesn't matter who wins, really. We will all be good friends, it is the- what do you say? - taking part that matters."  
  
"I agree," Lavender said, and Esperenza and Lotte nodded enthusiastically, "It would be good to win but at the end of the day I am sure this will be an amazing experience. It will be great to make so much European friendships- it's good for alliances and our understanding of each other."  
  
Hermione noted that, while everyone else was voicing their agreement, Fleur kept silent. In fact, she wrinkled up her nose scornfully and continued to idly spoon some yoghurt into her mouth. Almost enviously, Hermione watched as she swallowed the yoghurt without getting a trace and around her mouth, and placed the spoon back down. She ate so gracefully and well mannered- like a refined gentlelady, or someone from an uppercrust family.  
  
"The Quibbler might do an article on this pageant," Luna said, speaking for the first time. "What do you think?" Everyone gazed at her with astonishment, as though finally noticing her for the first time; Hermione felt some pity when she saw Luna had chocolate around her mouth. Fleur seemed to notice too, but she was smiling, rather sinisterly.  
  
"Ze Quibbler," she said delicately, a sly look in her bluer-than-blue eyes. "Isn't zat ze magazine- ze one wif ze strange articles? It caused quite a stir a few months ago, deed eet not?"  
  
"If you're referring to the inquiry on the lap dancing pixies," Hermione said sharply, "then I know for a fact that was fully investigated by the Ministry and found to be harmless."  
  
"Really?" There was a curious expression on Fleur's face and Hermione bit her lip, realising perhaps she'd said a little too much. "And `ow would you know dat, Mees `Ermione? And `ow is eet you are Mees Finland anyway?"  
  
"I know that because I read it in the Daily Prophet," Hermione lied, praying she looked matter-of-fact. "And I was born in Finland, but my family moved to England when I was a baby."  
  
Fleur looked as if she was about to investigate some more, but Lavender cut her off. "So girls," she interrupted pleasantly, as though there had been no friction at all. "What are your favourite lipsticks at the minute?"  
  
Immediately all the girls began talking at once, and Hermione gave a sigh of relief as she realised the secret was still safe, for the minute anyway. But she had her suspicions of Fleur- there WAS something strange about that witch. Perhaps... but no, it couldn't be her. Well, she'd bear her in mind anyway.  
  
Time passed and soon a bumbling, large man Hermione recognised from Hogwarts was clearing the plates away. It was Vincent Crabbe, a rather unintelligent fellow Hermione had never really spoken too much, but despised all the same. He ogled them all, Fleur in particular, rather indecently.  
  
"What are you looking at?" Lotte, the redhead from Germany, demanded. Hermione grinned at this girl, noting another feisty witch when she saw one. Perhaps she would be a friend to Hermione- something she would like to have in this pageant, a world full of strange cosmetic objects she didn't understand. Crabbe lumbered off carrying the plates at Lotte's words, though he did keep shooting leering glances at Fleur, who was ignoring him.  
  
"Ladies," came a familiar voice, and looking up to the stage Hermione saw Rita Skeeter stood holding her wand, a wide smile plastered across her powdered face. "Thank you, thank you," she giggled, as everyone clapped her appearance. "First of all I'd just like to welcome you to the pageant; I'm sure this year will be one of the best so far, and you will do your countries proud. I will be co-hosting the event in three days, though beforehand you'll have to do the preliminaries, such as the swimsuit competition. The schedule for today is quite simple: first of all we finish breakfast, then we change into our tracksuits and aerobic clothing and head for the gym where we practice the dance routines for the performances. By the time that's all sorted it's back here for a good beauty sleep, and a chance to settle into your rooms and get to know your roommates. There will be four to a room, chosen by us, and I'm sure you'll make some good friends."  
  
"Well said, well said," said a blonde handsome man standing nearby, chuckling into his own wand. It was Gilderoy Lockhart, another worker on the pageant and popular around the world for his television appearances. "That's what this event is all about anyway: establishing bonds between our countries. That's why I'll be very saddened to leave- after all, this is my last year spent co presenting this pageant."  
  
A gasp of shock and polite disappointment echoed around the room from most of the girls, though Hermione's analytical mind was already working in overdrive, and the skills that made her so good at her job had started into gear. WHY was he leaving? Was it his choice, or was he forced- and if so, was he bitter about it?  
  
"Why's he leaving?" Luna asked, still in her dream world.  
  
"Probably retiring," Esperenza said dismissively, though she too looked sad.  
  
"He's not retiring," Lavender muttered into Hermione's ear. "I know the full story... they're firing him, they think he's getting too old and he's not handsome enough to do it."  
  
"Not `andsome enough?" Fleur repeated, outraged, from nearby. "Ze man is a god!"  
  
"I know, but the rumours have been flying thick- and fast. And it's true old Lockhart's getting on now, so it doesn't surprise me at all." Lavender shot a confidential look at Hermione. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about it would you? I wouldn't tell anyone."  
  
"No," Hermione said truthfully, though if she had she wouldn't have told Lavender anyway, who was a bit of a motormouth. Her heart was in the right place, but she was all too often driven to distraction by idle gossip and such a secret would have been a burden on her heart- one that she'd be eager to be rid of to the next ten people.  
  
No, Hermione was still concerned about what she had been told, and trusting Lavender's excellent inquisitive skills, it was probably right. So they were firing him, were they? So Lockhart was another suspect to add to his list... after all, he had a good motive. If he was being sacked, surely he'd be angry and want revenge? And what better revenge than murdering the winner of the beauty pageant? Well, it would certainly get him recognition...  
  
While Hermione brewed over her thoughts, she didn't realise that she had put her elbow in the soup in front of her, and as the liquid began to scald, she let out a scream of pain. Immediately everyone's eyes trained onto her with disapproval in each accusatory glance, and Hermione looked up to see Rita glaring at her with suppressed fury. "Sorry," she muttered, and Lockhart continued explaining the procedures.  
  
***  
  
"She's made a fool of herself," Smith laughed, watching the screen in front of him. "Look, she put her elbow in the soup! What a klutz." All of the Aurors working on the case were crowded around the Muggle television that had been fixed up in their headquarters not a quarter of a mile from the Pageant Hotel. The camera that was attached to Hermione's dress revealed a good view of everything happening in the pageant, and the earpiece in her ear meant that the Aurors could hear everything going on.  
  
"Cor, she's a babe," Hynes chuckled, ogling Miss Italy. "And that Miss France- now she's got a great pair."  
  
"I've met her before," Malfoy said, who was sitting next to Smith. Though he liked to appear too cool to be glued to the screen like the other men, he was in fact just as interested as them in the pageant beauties. All of them were so flawless, so extremely attractive and stunning that he felt a warm heat just looking at them... but that was nothing to how he had felt seeing Hermione walk up in that dress of hers, just an hour before. That sensation had been like nothing on Earth, and even faced with the beauty of the other contestants, he knew that Hermione was one of the best. The way her hair had flowed, and the way her eyes like glistening warm pools had shone with such warmth had urged him to... to what? He was feeling the same animal urges as any other man did when faced with a pretty woman, but Granger had always been different; it had been good to wind her up and see her react, and enjoy the heated reaction that stirred something deep inside him.  
  
"You've met Miss France?" Smith said, impressed. "Where?"  
  
"She came to Hogwarts once," he said vaguely. "Fleur or something, I think her name was.And- shit! Woah!" His attention was suddenly on the screen once more, his fingers pressing hard against the television. "That- that wasn't him?" Malfoy had spotted a familiar looking waiter, with a round waist and protruding ears.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"That was Crabbe, a boy who used to go to Hogwarts. We were pals in the times when... when You Know Who was around." Everyone shuffled uncomfortably; though Voldemort had been dead for ten years now, a lot of people still struggled to say his name or speak about him without fear.  
  
"Was- was he a supporter of You Know Who?" Hynes asked in a hushed voice.  
  
"Hell no, Crabbe was as thick as two planks- no, it was his father who was the supporter. But he would have liked to be one, if he had the brains." Malfoy gulped, being careful to omit several details- like the fact his own father had been one, and that he himself had been lined up to become a Death Eater. Of course, since Voldemort was vanquished Draco had become a respectable member of the community. He could never let anyone know that he had once been part of such a Dark Art matter- he would be sacked on the spot.  
  
"So you think he's a potential danger?" Smith said nervously, scribbling away on some notes about suspects.  
  
"Well- I'd keep him on the list to be sure," Malfoy said firmly. "We can show her what we've got tonight when we meet up with her ...Granger." Just saying her name made a constriction in his throat, and he became tense. How he hated her: from her know-all ability which had consumed jealousy in him from his school days, to the professionalism and blatant misconduct when talking about something she felt passionately about. Shouldn't they stick by the rule book? After all, ever since Draco had been part of the job, he knew that he'd made the right decision. Being a respectable person came surprisingly easily to him, and the way Hermione shoved her opinions in people's faces wasn't part of that. That's how he knew she disliked him- she was always upfront, and whenever they argued in the past she had always expressed how much she despised him. In fact, Malfoy was sure Hermione hated him from the bottom of her heart.  
  
Of course, not like it actually bothered him, or anything.  
  
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Was it okay? I realise it might have dragged on a little and that it was extremely long (approximately double the length of the usual) but I wanted the first impressions to be squeezed into one chapter. The next one will continue on that- Hermione's first dance lesson and getting to know who her roommates are. I tried to take into account everything people have reviewed about, and please keep me informed of your thoughts!  
  
Saying that, I'd rather not receive flames because it's really hard not to take criticiscm to heart, though as long as it's constructive, I don't mind it. So far I haven't received any truly venomous reviews, with the majority being extremely pleasant and kind with honest but constructive comments, and I'd like it to continue that way. I'd never dream of flaming everyone and I'd like to get the courtesy people would want for themselves!  
  
That's all, next chapter soon! Emma xxx 


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione and the E.W.B.P (European Witchcraft Beauty Pageant)  
  
*** I managed to get my working mode in gear and write Chapter 6, so here's the result. Quite short compared to some of the other chapters and some others coming up in the future, but this one's another "getting to know the characters" type thing.  
  
Disclaimer: The majority of the plot is borrowed from the film "Miss Congeniality" and the characters are Rowling's. Of course, I've already written a disclaimer for every chapter before this, but what can I say? A chapter doesn't feel like a chapter without a hearty disclaimer before each one.  
  
Livvy~ hey thanks, yep the lap dancing pixies are one of my own more original ideas! Lol not really, but it was just something spontaneous that came into my head at the time of writing, a bit like some of the characters really. I know Luna was a bit of a shock, wasn't she? I just thought it would be great for her character to get the chance to do something like this.  
  
SiriuslyMione~ lol! The icy blue eyes, the white blond hair... those cute dimples and the sexy body... woah, I'm getting hot under the collar just thinking about it! ;) lol here's the update, was it soon enough? Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Dark_star~ I did update rather quickly, didn't I? Thanks, I'm pleased you're enjoying the chapters, and who knows? Your suspicions of Fleur could probe to be correct... my lips are sealed... As you can probably predict, Hermione's dance lesson wasn't exactly coordinated either!  
  
That's pretty much all of personal replies for this chapter, but thanks to everyone that reviewed and please keep it up. I hope to eventually pass the 100 mark! Wahoo!  
  
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Chapter 6  
  
It had been a bad day- a very bad day. Hermione flopped onto the soft bed, battling the temptation to close her eyes and not open them till morning, for there was so much left to do, what with unpacking and meeting the Aurors secretly. And not only that, but her dancing lesson had been a total disaster from start to finish.  
  
A Portkey had sent them all to a large clear hall, where a brisk dancing teacher had put them through their steps. Hermione had been rather cocky about this, especially as she usually went to the gym three times a week and was incredibly fit, but her lack of coordination and tendency to fumble meant that she'd made a total fool of herself. Indeed, she couldn't decide which part was worse: the part where she'd trod on Fleur's foot, fell over and got stood on by Miss Cyprus, or the part where her attempt to do splits had failed dramatically, and had resulted in the revealing of several inches of bare bottom when her tracksuit had ripped.  
  
"We `aven't got all day," came the sharp French accent, and Hermione, groaning, got to her feet and began pulling her clothes out of her suitcases. WHY was life so unfair? Rita Skeeter had assigned them to share rooms of four, and there had been a particularly wide smile on the woman's face when she'd announced whom Hermione was sharing with.  
  
"Room eight," she had called, smirking. "Miss Germany, Miss England, Miss France... and Miss Finland." Hermione rolled her eyes at the thought, stuffing clothes into drawers and slamming them forcefully. The room was pleasantly decorated in the palest pink with four wooden bunk beds and two large wardrobes and chests of drawers. However, as soon as their room had been allocated, Fleur had snatched the wardrobes and filled them both with her sensational silky clothes from Paris, leaving the other three to share the chests of drawers.  
  
"All off your clothes are ugly," Fleur said, wrinkling her nose. "Mine, mine ees the most expenseeve fabrics, not available `ere. Ze weaving in them- eet's like no other." It was true that her clothes were absolutely astounding; rows upon rows of luxurious fabrics in all colours of the rainbow lined the vast wardrobes, with silk, muslin and satin taking particular centre stage. There were deep swirls and pastel pinks, creams, warm browns, vibrant purples and reds, all you could ever think of. From the ladylike white to the ebony black, each garment had a matching bag and pair of shoes. It was like some giant sweet shop to a tiny child, and Hermione knew Fleur would have to guard the wardrobes with her life if she didn't want the other women stealing them. But there were so many to steal! Even now, half an hour later, Fleur continued to take clothes out of her suitcases.  
  
Having just finished packing, Hermione flopped onto her bed morosely, still deep in thought of her humiliating day. Why did she care what they thought? Hermione had always strongly disapproved and protested about the type of women who entered these pageants; superficial, looks-obsessed, vanity junkies with a serious lack of personality and humour. So why did it matter if she'd revealed her bum to them, and fell flat on her face? As soon as this mission was over she could revel in the glory of completing her first undercover assignment, and put it all behind her.  
  
She could forget the bitchy comments and backbiting gossip, she could forget the vacuous topics of discussion and the miniscule, revealing dresses, and she could especially forget the inner anger and torment she felt whenever she was faced with Draco Malfoy. As soon as this mission she was over, she was NEVER going to work with him again, even if it meant losing her job.  
  
"Are you okay? You look very depressed," Lotte said, patting down her clothes into a pile. Lotte was the German contestant, who spoke excellent English ("My mother was from the UK and she taught me the language from a little child,") and seemed a very likeable person to Hermione, who was having difficulty settling in. Unlike the other witches who portrayed striking beauty or poise, Lotte's looks were more "pretty" than anything. She had long red hair she kept plaited, large brown eyes and lots of freckles that covered her cute button nose and high forehead. Far from being plain however, Lotte seemed to stand out from the clone-like other contestants, for her charm if anything was far more attractive.  
  
"I'm fine," Hermione sighed, pulling off her tee shirt and grabbing her nightie. It was from the new set of clothes Lupin had given her, and was one of the only garments Hermione had that could possibly rival Fleur's wardrobe. The night dress was mid thigh and pale cream with white stitching ending in a bow around the plunging neckline- more of a slip than a nightie. Hermione felt positively naked, especially in front of her three roommates. Fleur was also wearing a silk slip in a dark red colour trimmed with black lace, whereas a more conventional Lotte had gone for an emerald fuller looking nightgown. Only Luna looked faintly ridiculous in oversized spaceship pyjamas and an orange bandana (everybody was getting used to her strangeness by now, and didn't even bother questioning her reason for wearing a bandana to bed).  
  
"Lights out girls," came the trilling voice of Rita from in the corridor, and with a groan Lotte slammed the door shut.  
  
"That woman is enough to drive me crazy," Lotte complained. "Honestly, that voice of hers just goes through me."  
  
"You're not the only one," Hermione agreed. "God, I'm starving. I could really do with a cup of tea right now."  
  
"A cup of tea?" Fleur said disdainfully, picking up a hairbrush and pulling it through her silvery mane. "In France, we would never drink such a `orrible drink. It is common. We would drink wine and champagne, not zis muck zat we are getting `ere."  
  
"My father always says," Luna said suddenly, breaking from her reverie; "that a cup of tea or coffee is the best way to wake up in the morning."  
  
"Hmm," Lotte said, her mouth twitching. She rummaged in her bag and produced a small brown slab of something that looked temptingly familiar.  
  
"Chocolat?" Fleur cried, putting a manicured hand over her mouth. "Zat cannot be consumed `ere! Ze fatty content! Are you mad?"  
  
"It's non fat," Lotte said calmly, breaking off a chunk and putting it in her mouth. Hermione rushed over, the aroma wafting up her nostrils and the slab mere inches away from Hermione's own hands. "Would you like some, Hermione?"  
  
"Yes please," Hermione said eagerly, taking the chunk that was passed to her and placing it in her mouth. Sadly, the taste wasn't as good as it looked; Hermione spat the chocolate into the waste paper bin in the corner as a cheap, tacky taste overcame her mouth.  
  
"Non fat never tastes like the real thing," Lotte said sadly, putting the slab away.  
  
Hermione climbed into her bed with relief, warmth enveloping her limbs and lulling her already closing eyes. "Don't fall asleep yet Hermione," Luna's dreamy voice said, invading her thoughts. "We should talk and get to know each other."  
  
Rolling her eyes, she pulled herself out of bed. Though she was tired, she knew that she should be continuing with her inquiries as much as possible and finding out about these girls. As much as she wanted to forget it, she was here for a reason, and it certainly wasn't about winning.  
  
"So what's it like in Germany?" Hermione asked Lotte.  
  
"It's beautiful where I come from," the redhead sighed. "There's trees and nature and wild, untamed, grassy forests that you can run in. And there's no Skeeter woman," she laughed, though with a bittersweet note to it. "I never really entered this through my own will, you know. My mother always said I should make something of myself, but I was never good enough if you know what I mean. This pageant is my one chance. My chance to do something, to be me."  
  
"How about you Luna?" Hermione asked, smiling at Lotte sympathetically. She could feel for this girl, who was in actual fact more like her than any of the others.  
  
"I thought it would be good to have an inside opinion for The Quibbler," Luna said, pointing at the magazine on her bedside table. "And the authorities picked me. They said I was perfect for it."  
  
"You do look really good now though," Hermione said truthfully, and Luna smiled, which was a rare thing because all the dreamy quality left her and a set of neat white teeth was revealed.  
  
"Thanks," came Luna's warm reply, and suddenly Hermione felt a happy sensation in her stomach, as she realised she'd made someone feel happy with just a little compliment. That would never happen with her male co- workers- they'd just crack a joke or take it lightly, not actually accept the compliment and feel pleased about it.  
  
Maybe there was something to this whole girlie thing, after all.  
  
Hermione snuggled further up under the covers. "How about you, Fleur? Why did you enter this pageant?"  
  
"None of your business," was the curt reply. "Now if you will all agree to sleep now, I will turn ze light off. We need to be awake early tomorrow, we need sleep now."  
  
"Why are you so rude Fleur?" Lotte said, frowning at the French witch. "You may be beautiful but I don't think much to your manners, or to your accent to that matter."  
  
"What is zat meaning?" Fleur demanded angrily, dots of pink appearing in her cheeks.  
  
"That considering your high and mighty opinion of yourself, your English isn't all that good," Lotte said calmly. Fleur cursed in French at this and turned over in her bed, flicking the lamp off with her right hand.  
  
"Good night," she said stiffly.  
  
"Good night," chorused in all directions, and Hermione finally closed her eyes, all thoughts of meeting up with the other Aurors abandoning her. She hadn't slept for two days; surely they could wait until tomorrow? So instead she waited for sleep to come with its blissful blanket.  
  
But it never came.  
  
For some INEXCPLICABLE reason, she couldn't get Malfoy out of her head. The way he had treated her this morning came back to her and so did her frustration; her anger at being talked to like an inferior and made to do this mission without even being consulted properly. And then the cheek of giving her such a stupid name! Hermie-Lou Freebush... well, at least that had gone wrong. Ever since Lavender had let rip Hermione's real name to the girls at the table in breakfast, she had thought it stupid to even pretend to be called "Hermie".  
  
She pictured the look on Malfoy's face when he realised his attempt to humiliate her had gone wrong... oh, it would feel good to finally get one over on him! Then with a crash she came back to earth- Malfoy would have seen her embarrassing herself at the dance class! After all, she did wear a magical earplug in her ear and a tiny camera pinned to her chest... he would know everything. And boy would he rub it in her face!  
  
"You're graceful aren't you, Granger," she could almost hear him saying, in that deep, sneering voice of his. She could picture the cool delight in his icy eyes, the smirk tattooed across his face... with a deep sense of pleasure she imagined punching him squarely on the nose, and watching him writhe in pain and shock...  
  
Tap tap tap.  
  
Hermione moaned slightly, and opened one reluctant eye.  
  
Tap tap tap.  
  
What the hell was it? Whatever it was, it had better shut up, or it'd wake the other witches.  
  
Tap tap tap.  
  
With a deep groan, Hermione pulled back her warm covers and dragged herself out of bed, tiptoeing over to the window, where all the noise was coming from. Pulling back the curtains, she almost let out a gasp of horror.  
  
There, outside her ground floor patio window, stood the tall lean form of Draco Malfoy.  
  
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The sixth chapter, and not really very long at all. Basically this was just establishing a few facts about the witches and getting to know her roommates (hint: there's more to all three of them than Hermione thinks!). The next chapter is going to be a lot of Hermione/Draco... so watch out for it coming soon! It'll also be a lot longer too, and hopefully with a lot more action and plot. In the meantime, please please please pretty please review and tell me what you think. Emma xxx 


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione and the E.W.B.P (European Witchcraft Beauty Pageant)  
  
*** First of all, a huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed me so far, good or bad, because everything you write helps to make this story better or gives me the confidence to continue. I'm hoping that after this chapter I might hit the "100" review mark or possibly even further, which would be absolutely great, so I urge you all to please click on that lil drop down button!  
  
I realise now that I get many reviews saying that the plot is still too similar to the film, and I do understand that it's best being original. However, I do constantly remind everyone every chapter that it's based on the film, and that the main plot is going to be quite similar. I've thrown in a few little extras and changed some of what happens (and also happened to add a few steamy scenes coming up in the future, but more on that later!) but the essence of the fiction will stay the same.  
  
Disclaimer: Most plot copyright of Warner Bros, who made Miss Congeniality, and most characters copyright of J K Rowling.  
  
Smokeline~ thanks very much for such a sweet review :) hehe, late night, Hermione in a silky slip, Malfoy waiting outside her window... who knows what's on his mind? As for Lotte, thanks- it's great you've warmed to one of my own characters. As for Fleur, more on her later...  
  
Natyslacks~ I feel for you with pesky parents. My dad's just the same! Thanks chuck, please review this chappie.  
  
SiriuslyMione~ my longest review so far! *grins* Yay! Thanks for such an in- depth post; I took notice of everything you said. I see you're digging the little scene I've cooked up for this chapter- in fact; you seemed rather ecstatic about it! And thank you for the compliment- it's so flattering to know that people enjoy your work, and it still hasn't sunken in for me!  
  
Trinity Marquise~ that's quite all right; I understand the review was meant with the best of intentions. And thank you for coming back to read more! It's really good you think my writing flows, and I hope it continues to do so! This was my other longest review, lol, so please keep posting and telling me what's right and wrong. I need your guidance.  
  
Dark star~ you're not the only one addicted to chocolate! If it had zero calories, I'd eat it all day everyday. Sadly that isn't the case, and instead I stick to rubbish low fat alternative food, or carrot sticks. Hooray. Anyway, thanks for posting and keep it up.  
  
This chapter's a lot longer than the last and tackles Hermione's first night at the pageant, so yet again it's quite in-depth and long-winded. Oh well, it gives plenty of opportunity for sexual tension! Without further ado, here's Chapter 7. ***  
  
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Chapter 1  
  
"Jesus Christ!" Hermione hissed, stepping back behind the curtain and clutching at herself with her hands. "Malfoy, what the fuck do you think you're doing? Anybody could have seen you- and I'm half dressed."  
  
"Clearly," Malfoy said quietly, smirking slightly. "May I add, Granger, that you look positively feminine, which makes a change. Now hurry up, I haven't got long. We need to have a meeting."  
  
"I'm exhausted," Hermione whispered angrily. "How could you be so selfish? Can't we discuss this tomorrow? It can't be that important- not important enough to drag me from my bed at this time of night."  
  
"Hey, if you didn't like it, you shouldn't have accepted the case."  
  
With a sigh, Hermione pushed open the patio window and stepped outside, the chill breeze making ripples across the paper-thin material of her nightie. She shivered visibly, goosebumps appearing on her arms and chest, and the wind blowing tendrils of her brown hair around her face.  
  
With a snap back to earth she realised Malfoy was staring at her strangely, as though examining her, and for the second time that night she felt completely naked.  
  
"It's rude to stare," she said irritably.  
  
"Well maybe," Malfoy said, his voice dripping with sarcasm; "maybe you should have put a dressing gown on, and at least then you'd be warm. Then again, you look better with your body on show."  
  
Hermione flushed deeply as she realised he was laughing that deep, drawling laugh of his that made her blood boil. Pushing back the patio window again, she hurried back inside and grabbed her black nightgown, pulling it on as she closed the window. "There," she said breathlessly. "Now we can get back to why you're really here."  
  
"Right," Malfoy said in a more business like manner. "We're trying to narrow it down as much as possible, and after listening to your little breakfast this morning we were able to deduct a few things. Firstly, my old pal Crabbe has managed to somehow wangle a job working at this here pageant, secondly that Lockhart's quitting it, and thirdly we found out who the witches in the actual contest are. The English and Irish contestants used to go to Hogwarts didn't they? What strikes me as odd, is that the Irish contestant isn't even Irish."  
  
"Lavender was born there," Hermione said reasonably, sitting on a wall next to Malfoy. "It makes perfect sense for her to be chosen. She's pretty, she's got a good personality, and she lives there with her husband Seamus."  
  
"Seamus," Malfoy said, his pale brow creased in concentration. "Not Finnigan from Hogwarts?"  
  
"The one and only," Hermione grinned, deep in memory of the sandy haired boy she had known so well. It was terrible that she'd managed to lose contact with so many friends since Hogwarts, and sometimes she wished she'd made more of an effort to stay in contact. It was just that her job took up so much of her time that for the past ten years she hadn't had time for a social life, or indeed much of a life at all apart from the time she spent at the Ministry.  
  
Hogwarts life had been truly amazing, the good times and the bad. Everyone in Europe considered it a blessing to ever have gone to such a fine school, which tutored some of the best witches and wizards alive, and she felt grateful to have attended. But nothing compared to the actual feeling of being there, fitting in, making friends and discovering whom you are. It was queer to think that ten years ago she would never have even talked to Malfoy unless it was to defend herself against his latest venomous attack, or to insult him with the most barbarous words she could conjure up; yet now, here she was working on the most important mission of her career with him.  
  
Hermione gazed up at the star strewn sky, strangely awake for such a late time. All around her lay the beautiful garden of the Pageant hotel, the trees reaching up for the sky with their branches and the perfectly clipped grass stretching out alongside a peaceful swimming pool, the crystal waters reflecting the moonlight. Despite sitting next to her worst enemy, she still felt strangely quietened and at harmony with nature. Malfoy seemed to be lost in thought too. His hands were placed quietly on the wall either side of him, his eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts. They raked the scene silently, taking in everything like a watchful hawk. Though nothing was said, Hermione knew he too was pondering on the past.  
  
"Maybe we should get to this meeting then," she said eventually, breaking the comfortable silence. As much as she would have loved to carry on a trip down nostalgia lane, she realised they had better hurry up if she wanted to get any sleep at all that night.  
  
"We're meeting in the Hall down there," he said curtly, pointing in the direction of the trees. He stood up and sauntered over, his usual confident charisma back in place. With a sigh Hermione followed, still a little chilly in her thin dressing gown. They slipped in through a side door into a well-lit room, where lay the stage and the hundreds of rows of chairs that would constitute the audience. At the front sat all the Aurors, who wolf whistled jokingly as Hermione entered.  
  
"Hey Granger!" they called mockingly, their eyes twinkling. "Nice dance moves today. Pure class."  
  
"Thanks," Hermione grinned sheepishly. "Where's Lupin?"  
  
"Right here Miss Granger," came a soothing voice, and out stepped Lupin from a side door, his arms laden with a long frilly flamingo dress. He looked much more handsome than Hermione remembered, though perhaps it was due to the fact he was smiling now rather than frowning.  
  
"Hi," she said. "Did I really have to be woken up? I need my sleep if I don't want to come out of this looking the fool. Besides, I'm hoping you have some really good leads on the case already because the sooner this is over the better, you know. Hey, is that a doughnut?" Hermione took a grab at the tray of food enticingly displayed on a long tray on the front of the table, but Lupin patted her hand warningly and whisked the tray away.  
  
"Sorry," he answered, passing the tray to the other eager Aurors. Now change into this Hermione and we'll go through walking down the stairs correctly, if that's okay. After that I'll leave you all to have a discussion on the case, and then it's back to bed for your beauty sleep. Here, go get changed in that side room."  
  
Taking the dress, Hermione hurried through the doorway and pulled the door to, but not fully shut, so she could hear what was being said- she didn't want anything getting past her. The dress was shorter than she'd thought, with frills around the breastbone and bottom hem, but the sleeves were long and fluted. It really wasn't her type of thing at all- not that any dress was, but this was definitely the wrong colour being that of a flamingo, and her style was a lot less fussy. Still, she thought, surveying herself in the mirror, it doesn't make me look bad. Not bad at all.  
  
Hermione had always gone to the gym and worked out, as well as leading an active lifestyle, but her fondness for food meant that she'd never been stick thin. Her breasts were round and full but not particularly large, which descended into a narrow waist with a flat stomach, broader, womanly hips and long muscular legs. However, the dress's frills seemed to make them look softer and shapelier, and the ruched waist enhanced her hourglass figure. Still- the dress would have to go. There's absolutely no way she could wear this in any part of the competition!  
  
She was just about to step outside and make her views known to Lupin, when the man's usually reasonable voice sounded out across to her and made her halt. "...I don't know what you expect me to do," he was saying, in a rather loud voice. "I've done everything I can in my power, but I can't give her a talent!"  
  
"You're saying she can't do it then?" came Smith's voice.  
  
"I'm not saying that at all, because I don't know her. What I AM saying though, is that you should have prepared Miss Granger for this before she arrived, before she accepted, because you can't spring something like this on me the night before the event!"  
  
Why are they on about? Hermione leaned closer to the crack on the door, listening intently.  
  
"The talent contest is a highly important occasion," Lupin continued, in a calmer voice. "It accounts for a high amount of marks in the full score and is also performed in front of an audience, then again in the final. If she doesn't do well then it could result in the exposing of her undercover mission!"  
  
"What are the exact rules for the talent, Lupin?" This time it was Malfoy in his sharp, harsh tones.  
  
"That the witch's talent has to be purely non-magical. At the end of the show the winner must perform a spell to the audience, but the talent contest is to present Muggle abilities, and Muggle abilities only. In the past there's been singing, a bit of acting, instruments, performing, the usual. The only rule is that it has to have no magic whatsoever. Do you think Miss Granger can do that?"  
  
"Well if she can't, it's your job to make sure she can by tomorrow," Malfoy answered. "You're getting paid for making her look credible. She's not going to make a fool of us."  
  
"I can't possibly do that!" Lupin sounded alarmed. "Talent isn't something you can teach somebody. It's just not feasible."  
  
"You also said it was impossible to make her look good," Malfoy reminded him. "And you only have to look at her now to see how beautiful she is."  
  
Hermione stifled a gasp, her heart thudding wildly in her chest. Beautiful?!? She smiled a little to herself. Oh, she could get him back with this little snippet of information.  
  
"I have talent," she announced, making her appearance known as she strolled out of the room. "You forget I went to a Muggle school before I went to Hogwarts, and both my parents are Muggles. I was brought up one."  
  
"You were listening? The whole time" Lupin asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.  
  
"Of course," Hermione said, glancing with entertainment in the direction of Malfoy. He seemed to be staring furiously at the floor, his cheeks slightly pinker than usual.  
  
He thinks I'm beautiful, Hermione grinned, noting how ridiculous it was. He HATED her.  
  
Oh, it felt good watching him squirm.  
  
"So what talent do you have in mind?" Smith asked, still scoffing doughnuts.  
  
Hermione thought hard, her logical mind immediately jumping to the subjects she loved. She'd always liked Science- good, hard, orderly facts that couldn't possibly go wrong. But what sort of talent could she get out of Science? She would have to try and entertain the audience, which would be of the magical variety and unused to Muggle entertainment.  
  
For example, such things as electricity were considered wonders to wizards and witches. Hermione remembered her friend Ron's dad, Mr Weasley, who had always gabbled on excitedly any time electricity had been mentioned. Hermione chuckled at the memory, and then an idea grabbed her so suddenly it took her by surprise. That was it!  
  
"Electricity," she said out loud.  
  
"What about it?" Lupin asked.  
  
"I could... I could always use electricity," Hermione said slowly. "Perhaps set up a show of electricity onstage, so that little bulbs go off, and motors, and they play little tunes... and yes! I could arrange it so when I pressed the switch, little bulbs arranged in a pattern to read "European Witchcraft Beauty Pageant" switch on and off and music plays in the background! It'll be great, I know just how to do it, I've had experience with circuits in the past and I know just how to set them up. It'll be great! I'll have a stand set up on the stage with a huge billboard covered in bulbs, with a little switch hanging down. And when I'm ready I press the button and an electrical show starts with little lights and sounds and everything! I have some really good-"  
  
"Slow it down," Lupin said, putting a hand out haltingly. "You seem to have it all planned. After we've finished practicing, we can write down everything you'll need and I'll send away for it all so it will arrive by tomorrow. Hopefully we can have it all set up for you without looking suspicious."  
  
"Whatever this 'electricity' is, it had better be fool proof," Malfoy snapped, making his first input into the discussion since Hermione had overheard him. He scraped his hand through his hair, which wasn't as slicked as usual. It was probably due to stress that he hadn't spent as much time on his hair as usual, Hermione thought to herself.  
  
"Back to walking down the stairs," Lupin said. "Now, you must always remember when wearing dresses, to keep your legs closed..."  
  
***  
  
It was several hours later and after much rowdy arguments and topics of dressing that Hermione finally changed back into her slip and nightgown and prepared to leave the Hall. It had been laborious work; continuous dress changes, much arguments about where she was to keep her wand, a lot of pleading from her ("Just one cigarette won't hurt! C'mon, PLEASE!"), a great deal of taking notes and arguments over who could possibly want to damage the pageant and why, and a lot of tension between Lupin and Malfoy.  
  
They just didn't seem to get on.  
  
Malfoy had turned the air blue with insults for the ever patient Lupin, particularly when he insisted on going through plans again, and when the assistant took hold of Hermione's arm to go up the stairs, Malfoy suddenly snapped.  
  
"Are you done yet?" he had barked, getting up suddenly. "Because it's going to be morning soon."  
  
"You're right," Hermione yawned, checking the time on the watch near the doorway. It read three o` clock: considering the girls had to get up at six thirty, it didn't look like she'd be getting much shuteye- for the second night in a row.  
  
Hermione tucked her nightgown tighter around herself and eyed the cigarette packet that had been left on the side, her hand twitching with the urge to grab it. It had been days since she'd been allowed to light up and, despite the knowledge it was bad for her, she so desperately craved for one. She had started smoking about seven years ago, when she'd joined the Ministry and the stress had started getting heavy. What with being surrounded by men up to fourteen hours a day, she had started the habit too, and nowadays she relied on them, no matter how much she knew about the dangers.  
  
"Don't even think about it," Malfoy said, taking the cigarettes and putting them in his suit pocket. "You can't smoke on the job."  
  
"Since when have you cared?" Hermione asked bitterly, but she followed Malfoy's lead into the night air. The sky was just getting ever so slightly lighter now, the dark inky blue now flecked with grey and in small places, pink. As soon as they were outside Malfoy took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it with his wand, causing smoke to waft through the air. He took a drag, seeming to enjoy Hermione's restrained look of envy, and turned to her.  
  
"Too bad Granger," he sneered. "Knew you couldn't do it."  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Do the job, dumbarse. I knew it'd get too tempting to resist."  
  
"I can resist," she said stiffly, though she grinned a little as she allowed her mind to wander back to before.  
  
"And you only have to look at her now to see how beautiful she is..." the words echoed in Hermione's brain, making her chuckle.  
  
"What are you laughing about?" Malfoy asked sharply.  
  
"Nothing... just thinking about yours and Lupin's little discussion today," she said cunningly, watching his powerful shoulders stiffen beside her. The smoke rose around him, the cigarette in his grip temporarily forgotten.  
  
"What about the discussion?" he asked carefully, still not looking her in the eye.  
  
"The part where you said I'm beautiful," she answered, laughing. "You think I'm gorgeous, don't you Malfoy?" she jeered mockingly, resorting to his own usual behaviour. She turned to face him directly, her dark eyes full of a mischievous light all of their own. "You think I'm gorgeous," she repeated, and the words brought back memories of a stupid song she used to sing at school, and had once been popular in the Muggle charts.  
  
"You think I'm gorgeous," she sang, clicking her fingers and taunting him with her movement. "You want to smooch me, you want to hug me, love me and marry me-" She stopped singing her teasing song as she realised his icy blue eyes were looking straight into her own, his jaw set and his cruel, handsome features raised to meet hers. He leaned closer and for one second her heart stopped beating- surely he wasn't going to- to KISS her?  
  
But he didn't. He raised the cigarette to his lips and took a deep drag, before taking it away; his lips blew the smoke softly around Hermione, his eyes now full of vicious laughter. "Good night, Miss Finland," he said softy, and walked away.  
  
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There you go, Chapter 7! Quite long, I think you'll find, and for those who have wanted it a long time, I'm sure you'll have noticed. I PUT THE SONG IN! Yes that was for you, folks. I tried to make it fit in as much as possible but what the hell, you wanted it! It was a bit stupid really, considering I'm trying to stray away from the film a little but, but oh well, it was funny. The next chapter's the talent contest folks! Will Hermione's electronics work? Lol, you'll just have to find out... Emma xxx 


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione and the E.W.B.P (European Witchcraft Beauty Pageant)  
  
*** Yay, we reached the target- over 100 reviews and I am now a very happy bunny. Thanks again for taking the time to post your messages, all of which were very kind and helpful. I'm trying to keep the chapters coming fairly fast but they take a while to write and edit so sometimes there's a delay. It also depends on how long each chapter is; that's a very big factor in fact. And for those interested, I've planned ahead and I think there is going to be around 20 chapters for this story or something like that- though who knows, I might get overexcited and write more!  
  
Disclaimer: Most characters owned by J.K.R and the plot based on the film Miss Congeniality. Also at one point the book "A Twelfth Night" is mentioned, which is credited to the marvellous William Shakespeare. The only things I own are a few pageant ladies, that's it!  
  
Kristyne~ hi! It's good to know you've been reading so far, and thank you for the review. Please keep it up so I know what you like or dislike about this story. And I've put you here, like you asked!  
  
Dark star~ Lol you liked the ending? Heehee, I thought it'd be funny for Draco to get all embarrassed, after all he has a lot of vanity and pride... and more of that's coming this chapter. And as for the electrical talent, it's certainly going to be an interesting experience! Thanks for the review- it's good to know other people out there have to put up with the dreaded carrot sticks.  
  
SiriuslyMione~ Wahoo, seems a lot of people like that song! I'm glad you enjoyed it- and thanks for posting :) Yep, I AM making sure Hermione doesn't just hate Malfoy one chapter and love him the next- things slowly and surely dawn on her. Things really heat up and the tension will become unbearable soon, lol!  
  
Natyslacks~ Hi Nat, the parody idea would be cool! You should definitely write that idea you have in mind because I bet it would be great. Lol thank you for those lovely comments because they're very much appreciated.  
  
Aquaprincess1~ thank you and yes, there in actual fact IS going to be a flash of Draco's feelings this chapter... I realised we need a bit more of his POV and your review cemented that in my mind. Hope you like this chappie!  
  
Livvy~ thanks Livvy :) yep you don't need to have seen the film to understand this fic, but if anything is confusing or I don't explain it properly don't hesitate to ask. Yep Malfoy thinks she's beautiful but I bet he regrets that Hermione knows!  
  
And here's Chappie 8, which is quite similar to the movie, but hopefully in a good way. Keep me updated on your thoughts!  
  
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Chapter 8  
  
Hermione pushed open the door of the make-up and costume room, and flopped onto the nearest stool she could find, trying and failing to stifle a huge yawn. Her messy, still-asleep appearance stared back at her from the mirror- she was supposed to go up onstage in less than an hour! How the hell would she be able to do it looking like this?  
  
Judging on the appearances of the other witches, most of them had woken up bright and early to prepare for the talent contest; Hermione however had slept in later than usual but was still fatigued by the late night meeting with Malfoy and Lupin. Running her fingers through her wild mane, she glanced over at Lavender, who was sitting to her left and examining her critically.  
  
"Hi," Hermione said, staring straight back at her friend. "What's up? Have I got acne or something?"  
  
"No," Lavender said, shifting in her chair, as though teetering on the edge of revealing some huge secret. "You look... erm... really tried, Herm`."  
  
"True." Hermione grabbed a lipstick and rubbed it against her lips, making her look as if she'd been eating strawberry jam rather messily. "I had a pretty late night."  
  
"Really?" A few of the girls giggled and suppressed grins. "Hmm... from what I've heard, you did have a rather busy night last night didn't you?"  
  
"Er... what?" Hermione had a very bad feeling about this conversation. Surely they hadn't found out about the meeting? If they had, the whole game would be up; she'd have to pack up and go home, and most probably Weasley would go ballistic... Grant would sack her... she'd be ruined. And the look on Malfoy's face when he found out she'd blew it! Life wouldn't be worth living anymore.  
  
"Your visitor," Fleur murmured, spraying herself with perfume.  
  
"What visitor? I had no visitor, I don't know what you're talking about, honestly, there was no visitor, and it isn't allowed..." Hermione's gabbling halted when Lotte came up behind Hermione's chair and placed a hand on the back comfortingly.  
  
"Slow down," the red head said soothingly. "It's just Fleur, Luna and I, well, we heard someone tapping on the window, and then you got out your bed and... left. As far as we saw, you didn't come back until early because you didn't return before we dropped off to sleep."  
  
So they'd been awake! Hermione shuddered, realising just how close they'd been to giving the game away... still, it was Malfoy's fault. If he hadn't knocked then she would have had a good night's sleep and everyone would be none the wiser of anything. Still, she now had to make up a bloody good excuse to cover his appearance.  
  
"It eesn't fair," Fleur grumbled. She looked quite angry, her blue eyes filled with abhorrence. "If you have visitors, then shouldn't ze pageant allow for all? I `ad better complain."  
  
"No! No, it won't happen again," Hermione assured the French witch. "Sorry about that. It's just... he's an ex of mine."  
  
"So who is he?" Lavender asked eagerly. "Spill the beans!"  
  
Hermione's logical mind was doing some very quick thinking, and the wittier, more revengeful side of her mind was doing some calculating plotting of its own. The humiliation she'd felt last night when Malfoy had derided her still hadn't faded, and with answering Lavender's question she could kill two birds with one stone. The earplug was still in her ear after all, and the camera still pinned to her breast... Malfoy would probably be listening to every word she said.  
  
"Oh, he's this wizard I went out with a while ago," Hermione answered, shrugging. "A complete git, to tell the truth. But he's completely infatuated with me. He always goes on about how BEAUTIFUL I am," she paused, allowing her words to sink in, and adjusting her earpiece so the Aurors listening with their equipment would hear every word. "I tell him to leave me alone but he won't take no for an answer. He wants to marry me, and everything."  
  
"Is he `andsome? Rich? Kind?" asked Fleur. All the girls had gathered round to hear about Hermione's visitor, and it was clear that they'd been gossiping about it for some time before Hermione arrived.  
  
"Well he's from a very rich family," Hermione answered, "and he certainly has a lot of dosh in the bank- but his looks are lacking." Her eyes twinkled, just imagining the look on Malfoy's face as he listened. "Puny, no muscles, weedy. You know the kind. He reminds me of a lovesick puppy, the way he runs to my every whim, bless him."  
  
And with that, the humiliation of Malfoy was complete.  
  
***  
  
"You listening to this?" Smith demanded, spraying popcorn at the other Aurors crowded around the television and radio set. "You hear that Malfoy? Ha! They know about your little visit."  
  
Malfoy shrugged, though inside he felt a bit anxious- would Granger be able to cover their tracks? She was usually good at that sort of thing, but her attitude recently had become a lot more... vindictive. In fact, she was becoming more like him in that sense every second. And strangely enough, he kind of liked it.  
  
"... He always goes on about how BEAUTIFUL I am." Hermione's voice spoke the words clearly and filled the room; immediately the other Aurors began laughing and rowdily throwing more popcorn.  
  
"Ha, Granger knew that'd get to you," Hynes smirked.  
  
"Yeah, who knew she was so great?" Walker joked. Malfoy only growled moodily, feeling the heat rise in his face. She couldn't- she wouldn't dare- she wasn't trying to EMBARRASS him was she? Well, it wouldn't work.  
  
"... He reminds me of a lovesick puppy, the way he runs to my every whim, bless him." Hermione finished and Malfoy's feelings of mortification intensified. Never before had his pride been so insulted or degraded; never before had anyone, let alone a mere female with little money or connections, managed to get to him so much. Then again, she had always been a feisty little minx; like the time she'd slapped him in their third year at Hogwarts, and the time in sixth year when he'd trod on her cat's tail and she had kicked him in the most painful place a teenage boy can be kicked. Granger certainly was a difficult woman, but she'd taken it too far this time. How could he face the other Aurors and come out with his pride intact?  
  
The other Aurors collapsed in hysterical laughter, their faces creased with the mirth of seeing their colleague have such an obvious dig at someone, and not just anyone- have a dig at Malfoy, the richest, most favoured, smartest and handsomest man at the whole of the Ministry. This was something that had NEVER happened before. But did he let it get to him?  
  
Of course.  
  
"Bitch," Malfoy snarled quietly, then straightened up and checked his hair in the mirror nearby. "Well, men," he continued, "seems like Granger thought of a good cover-up story. Unfortunately for her, it isn't true- most ladies are desperate for a bit of my loving."  
  
Smith sniggered. "What, lovesick puppy style?"  
  
Malfoy's jaw dropped. Before this incident, none of the other Aurors would EVER dare say such a thing, joking or not- it just wasn't done. The aura of the Malfoy name was that they were to be respected, admired and carefully treated with perfect manners- never ever to be the brunt of jokes, be ridiculed or devalued in any way. It broke the unspoken code of honour that surrounded Draco.  
  
"If you don't watch your mouth Smith I'll personally make sure you're kicked off this investigation and removed from the Ministry services. That happens, and we both know no company will touch you again with that tarring on your name." Malfoy's voice was icily calm and clear, with no hint of menace in his words. Everybody shut up, knowing that he fully meant it. Empty threats were never issued from that wizard's mouth.  
  
The next hour passed in a haze, mostly of watching Hermione and the other girls prepare for the talent contest. The electronic equipment had arrived and a routine had been sorted, where a huge banner lit with tiny fluorescent bulbs announced it as "European Witchcraft Beauty Pageant", and below the banner all different signs and statues of beautiful witches stood, covered in bulbs and electronical devices. It had been set up so that when Hermione connected the different wires, it sang a musical tune and the different statues talked. Malfoy personally had been totally shocked that everything had been done without magic- just how did Muggles cope? - but it had been checked and found to be using only electricity.  
  
"Time for us to go, boys," Smith announced, getting up from his chair and pulling on his coat. "Grab your wands."  
  
"Right," Malfoy said, taking charge. "We'll split up once we get in the crowd so that there's one of us in all four corners and circling the perimeter, and one of us in the centre of the crowd to keep an eye on things. I'll go in the centre for a better view, and remember to keep your earplugs in all the time so we can communicate properly. You see anything untoward, you give the signal. Oh yeah, and listen out to Granger because she might give us it too."  
  
It was only a short walk from the hideout to the hotel, and soon they were outside in the huge crowd of witches and wizards that had gathered to watch the talent contest. It stretched out for seemingly miles, some on chairs, some standing, and some at the front sitting cross-legged on the floor. Other spectators had arrived on brooms and were circling above (though little did they know that a couple of Aurors were doing the exact same thing a few feet away from them), whereas others were floating several feet above the floor in their desperation to see the stage. It was only a few seconds before Rita Skeeter appeared, looking like a walking talking elderly Barbie doll. Malfoy growled slightly to himself, his dislike for her quite apparent. Though he had forced himself to be pleasant to the old witch for the sake of the case, it didn't alter his private repulse of her the way she spoke and acted. It was just so FAKE. He hated fake women and would never actually see one- though he might sleep with her once or twice. It was real, dangerous, smoulderingly beautiful women he liked, and only liked. Draco Malfoy loved nobody but himself.  
  
After a short introduction from her and the impossibly ridiculous Lockhart, the first girl arrived on the stage. Even from here Malfoy could see that she was very pretty, with coffee coloured skin and dark hair, and instantly recognised her as Miss Italy, one of the women Hermione had been introduced to.  
  
Meanwhile, as the girl broke into a haunting melody, Malfoy muttered into his earpiece: "seen anyone suspicious yet?"  
  
"Not yet," came the reply from someone he suspected to be Walker. "Hey, a hamburger stall! Malfoy, can I buy a burger?"  
  
"No," Malfoy answered. "You're on the job remember? And Granger should be out soon..."  
  
***  
  
"Good luck," Hermione smiled to Luna, who was just about to take to the stage. Far from being nervous, the young Lovegood had spent most of her time sitting absentmindedly in the corner and chewing on peppermints, while the other ladies rushed around applying makeup and reciting verses to themselves.  
  
"Remember, left leg before right leg," Lavender could be heard muttering to herself as she paced the carpet nervously. "Left always before right, left, left, left is best, left..." It wasn't only Lavender who was nervous. Lotte was gibbering a lot of nonsense and her skin had gone milky white, whereas Fleur seemed close to tears and cried to anyone who would listen that her lucky charm necklace had disappeared.  
  
"Wer iz it? I will fail now, I will not be able to act properly," she moaned, before letting out a fast trail of words in French and kicking the door ferociously. "Thees is ridiculous."  
  
Hermione ignored them all, preferring to remain quietly confident. This was going to be easy- after all, electronics was very simple and it came naturally to her. All she had to do was rearrange the statues so they were in the right order to work, then connect the fuses together properly to her dress and flick the switch. The dress was, after all, the key to the whole thing: it was bright green and almost fully covered in light bulbs (even her headband had a row of pink light bulbs on it). Though they weren't lit yet, as soon as she flicked the switch on the back after connecting the dress to the fuses, the whole thing would burst into vivid colour and sing songs to the audience.  
  
She watched Luna onstage now from behind the curtain, who was enacting a scene from the Muggle Shakespeare play, "A Twelfth Night" and doing it remarkably well. The audience seemed gripped and every face was turned to her, enthralled... that is, almost all of the faces. Hermione realised with a dull thud that Malfoy was near the front, muttering out of the corner of his mouth. He hadn't noticed her and she pulled back, a little patter of nerves in the pit of her stomach. How could she do it in front of him? What if it went wrong?  
  
Her electronics had arrived, which were fitted onto a stand that she was supposed to push onto the stage as she walked on... a raucous applause could be heard as Luna finished her performance, and Lockhart's voice rang over the din; "thank you, thank you Miss England. A truly superb performance there. And next, some Muggle electrical technology with Miss Finland!"  
  
Hermione felt herself being pushed forward by an encouraging Lotte and all too soon she found herself in the eye-watering glare of the lights. Faces beamed at her in all directions and sweat beaded her brow as she pushed the huge trolley onto the stage and assembled it correctly so that the sign hung above her and the little statues were organised nearby. All she had to do now was make her way over to the fuses and connect her dress to it with the wire...  
  
In her eagerness, she didn't quite look where she was going, and the toe of her stiletto heels caught one of the fuses connecting the statues together. With a horrendous crash Hermione found herself on the floor, the electronical equipment smashing all around her and exploding catastrophically in her ears. Thousands of bulbs shattered on impact as the frayed wires made crackling noises and uttered little dangerous growls. Hermione got to her feet, her face red with embarrassment (why the FUCK did it have to happen to her? Why) but the audience continued to gasp and point wordlessly at her.  
  
What? Hermione thought worriedly. What's going on now? For although the electrical equipment had just broken and she'd fallen over in front of thousands of people, they continued to stare and occasionally shout out little things... Hermione smelt a whiff of something burning. Great, that was all she needed- a fire nearby! But somehow the torrid smell didn't go away and continued to tickle her nostrils; smoke wisped around her in little circles. It couldn't be-? NO WAY!  
  
Letting out a little scream, she realised that the hem of her dress had caught fire. She panicked, swirling around in circles and waving her arms in the air, but it only made it worse.  
  
And with an ear-splitting hiss, her dress fully ignited in red-hot flames.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Hopefully that was okay! I know it was a little while since I updated but this chappie took longer than I thought it would- I don't know, writers block or something. Review please! Emma xxx 


	9. Chapter 9

Hermione And The E.W.B.P (European Witchcraft Beauty Pageant)  
  
I am sorry to say I can no longer continue writing this fiction and I deeply apologise for this. It's just that I realise this fic is waaay too similar to Miss Congeniality to allow writing this without Warner Bros permission (I read the story upload page again and again with horror as this sank in). I also know that a fair few of you think I need to be a bit more original anyway so who knows? Maybe this is a blessing in disguise.  
  
Apart from that I would have serious trouble writing it anyway, as my exams are coming up and I have flute exams too, as well as some pretty heavy stuff going on in my personal life. I am really sorry.  
  
A huge, tearfilled, massive thank you to everyone who reviewed me- god bless you, you deserve it. You brightened my day and made me feel good- something not many people can do. I am quitting fanfiction for at least a while so maybe this is my last reply! *sheds a tear* bye, I'm going to miss you!  
  
Emma xxx 


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